


A Weapon the Size of a Fist

by versus_versus



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, LadyNoir - Freeform, Near Future, established partnership, the realistic consequences of your secret identity being exposed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versus_versus/pseuds/versus_versus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your heart is a weapon the size of your fist. Keep fighting. Keep loving."</p><p>By their terminale (12th year), our heroes protected Paris from all kinds of akuma. They settled into a comfortable pattern, but real life was just around the corner. Hawkmoth was hard to track down, and even for heroes, life moves on.  They were preparing for college entrance exams, trying to figure out where life would take them...and then it all went wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blessure

**Author's Note:**

> Before getting into anything, I’m going to prewarn all of my readers: I'm going to use a current (11/2015) widespread fan theory that's a bit too obvious for my liking, but certainly adds to the potential for drama and pain. So while I hope the show takes a different spin, that’s what I’m going with. I’m going to make the little ones horribly sad. I’m sorry in advance...but hey, you should come along for the ride anyway.

It had been nearly four years. Four years they’d worked together without a hitch. They’d been strangers, then the best of friends, and somehow it had worked. They had worked together to defeat so many akuma-infested victims they had lost count, and it had turned into a game. Sure, there had been injuries along the way, so many they could hardly count, but they had made it.

Somehow, along the way, they’d come to a simple resolution: they could each have all the suspicions they wanted, but they wouldn’t tell each other their real identities. Ultimately, they decided it was too dangerous, although neither of them mentioned to the other how difficult life would become if their suspicions were true. So they let it go, and were content as Chat Noir and Ladybug. No more, no less.

They sat on the edge of the roof in the stillness, having finished the night’s patrol. Morning was coming, they could see the dawn peeking over the horizon. Instead of their usual evening patrols, the way they’d done early in their careers, they’d started varying the times and who took them. At least they weren’t predictable, and they could still get some sleep. Occasionally, like tonight, they would take patrol together and talk.

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I won’t, what if you say something ridiculous?”

Chat sighed, shrugging. “Frankly, it is ridiculous. I want to teach physics. I’ve always loved it, it’s interesting and I just…” he shrugged. “There’s no money in it, but I enjoy it. Kind of like this hero-thing, you know?”

“If you could make a career out of being a hero, you’d be set,” she smiled wistfully. “But why is it ridiculous to want to teach?”

He sighed. “My father won’t let me.”

“He won’t let you follow your dream?”

“Nope. Never has, probably never will.” He flopped back on the roof and groaned. “I’m going into business.”

“Yikes.” She stared out at the skyline, unsure what to say. “What about…would he maybe let you do both?”

He snorted. “Doubt it. What use is physics? All you can do with a degree in physics is teach or do research, there’s no future in that.” Still, he pondered the possibility. Maybe it would be possible to do both. If he started managing his own schedule, maybe he could swing it. Natalie could only baby him so long…and if he were especially careful about the appointments his father set, there was a slim chance he could do both and keep it under the radar. Then again, now wasn’t the time to think it through, so he changed the subject. “What about you?”

“I’d love to go into fashion, but I don’t know that L’institut Marangoni will accept me.” Her voice was quieter than usual, but nervous, almost hopeful.

He whistled. “Why am I not surprised? It’s all or nothing for you, hmm?” The question came out as more of a purr than he probably intended, but she laughed all the same.

“I’ve always wanted to. It feels right. When I make my own things, I feel better about wearing them than anything I buy in the store.”

“I’m sure you could pull quite anything off. You could go out in a potato sack and make it look glamorous.”

“Ah, but you’ve never even seen the 'ordinary' me,” she laughed. “Perhaps glamour isn’t my thing. Maybe I'm into grunge, or I have my own horribly boring style.”

“There's nothing ordinary about you, and I’m sure the trenchcoat you would fashion out of said potato sack would look every bit as kickass as…” There was a scream, and a blare of car alarms. They both looked up, then nodded to each other in sync. “Hold that thought. Duty calls!” Chat leapt up excitedly. “Race you there!”

“I’m only running because someone’s in danger!” she shouted as he dashed off, quickly catching up to him as she leaped and bounded across the rooftops. They ran along the Seine, L’Il de la Cité on their right, as they followed the screams to the plaza of the Hôtel de Ville.

They landed onto the scene and found themselves facing yet another akuma victim, in the middle of a smattering of early-morning of joggers that had taken the path for its lack of uneven cobbles and an early-risen tourist or two. Chat looked at him skeptically and turned back to her. “Please enlighten me…why is this guy not wearing a shirt? There’s a reason, right?”

“I am the Brutal Boxer!” he shrieked, flexing and posing.

Chat snorted derisively. “I swear, they’re running out of themes for themselves, don’t you think my Lady? This is ridiculous.” The akuma’s victim spun and hurled the van’s bumper at him. He dodged easily, ‘tsk’ing and shaking his head. “Didn’t you ever learn it’s mean to throw things at animals? You might as well kick a puppy.”

“I throw plenty of punches! And I wake up early to train, and I am stronger than you!” The both of them evaded the chunks of van nimbly, Chat trying to distract him as she moved about, trying to find the akuma.

The poor bastard was practically a joke. They had their routine down, it was fairly straightforward. One of them would distract the victim, the other would hunt for the akuma. Simple enough, most of the time. “You know, I think Hawk Moth is just getting lazy at this point.” 

She sprinted at his back, dropping and sliding between the victim's legs, despite his odd footwork. She found herself in front of the man and dodged as he swung at her, connecting with nothing but empty air. “That’d be true if I could find the akuma. Mind helping?”

“That thing, the sweatband, it looks like a pretty obvious choice. As I said, he’s getting lazy.” Chat said, his voice smug as he sidestepped another chunk of debris.

“Yeah, well, we still can’t find him and we don’t have any leads, no thanks to you.” She said it as a joke, gently ribbing him, but the words still stung a bit, following on the heels of his last failure. They’d gone their separate ways, promising to look for clues to Hawk Moth’s identity, his hideout, anything. She’d found obscure mentions of him in a couple of history books Tikki had helped her find and he’d found nothing. Then again, Plagg hadn’t helped him, so he’d been on his own.

Still, he looked indignant as he dodged a wheel the Boxer ripped off a van. “I’m good at certain things, but hunting people down is not one of them.”

“You’re a cat, you’re supposed to be good at hunting, hmm?” she grinned catching one of the Boxer’s arms with her yoyo. 

“Ahaha, very funny.”

The Boxer came at her fast, more powerfully than any normal human possibly could, but she stood her ground, waiting til the right moment to catch him and use his own momentum against him, sending his overpowered attack into a nearby façade. 

Cracks splintered up it and as he stumbled back to his feet. Chat leapt over him and snagged the sweat band, giving him a mocking push and watching as he stumbled across the street and sat down on the curb, finally giving up. He took a good look at the sweatband, cringing and making a face as he did so. “Yikes, haven’t you ever washed this thing?” Out came the claws, slashing the band into pieces. They watched as the akuma fluttered out of it and Ladybug caught it, freeing the purified butterfly and watching it flutter away.

The Boxer seemed stunned, grumbling something about a knockout as Chat smiled and brushed flaking masonry off of himself. “Well, that looks like another akuma taken care of my Lady, think we’re about done for the day?” She looked up and flashed him a smile before her expression changed to one of shock.

“Look out!” He turned around looking for the source of her panic. He never managed to complete the turn, as she slammed into him, shoulder-checking him backward as masonry and debris landed where he’d been only a moment before.

When he finally pulled himself to his feet, he looked at the pile of rubble with relief, ever grateful to his partner not to have been crushed. It would have been just his bad luck for that to happen, and from the size of the stones, it would have meant a hospital trip for sure.

The relief only lasted a moment, til he looked around the plaza for her and saw nothing but half a dozen horrified expressions looking at the pile. Fear gripped him and he moved like death was on his heels. “Ladybug!” 

He wasn’t the only one to move. A middle-aged woman in neon jogging clothes and an older man, who had been escorting a very old woman, presumably his mother, ran forward. The woman stopped a moment, pointing at one of the bystanders. “You! Pink jacket!” 

The second woman looked surprised, glanced at the others, then pointed to herself. “Me?”

“Call 112!”

The woman nodded and it was only a moment before she was on the phone, explaining to the emergency operator what was happening. They grabbed chunks of masonry, shifting it aside as they fought to dig out the red-suited figure. Once freed, the woman started checking for vitals, moving with an easy familiarity. Chat, thoroughly out of his league, took her hand and watched the woman work. “You’re her friend, yes?”

“Her partner. Always have been, always will…” the words caught in his mouth as he realized that might not be true.

She nodded. She had thin, pinched lips, but looked at him with a knowing expression. For some reason, he trusted her. “This is serious, as soon as the EMTs get here they will need to take her. Can you contact her parents and have them meet her at the hospital? Do you know who she is?”

He hesitated, then nodded, quickly pulling out his phone. “I’m…mostly sure. I’ve got their number.”

“Go.” She hesitated in thought. “They should take her to Hôtel-Dieu. Tell them to meet her there. I’ll stay with her.”

Anger sparked. He should be with her, not some random stranger. “Why should I trust you?”

She frowned. “Because it’s an emergency, I have the training to take care of her until EMTs get here, and your hands are shaking. I need you to stay calm, you know her best.” He glanced down and his stomach tightened. He hadn’t even noticed, but she was right.

He moved away, pushing people aside to clear the crowd as he made the call. A relaxed male voice answered the other line. “Good morning, this is Astruc Bakery. Can I help you?” Her father’s voice? Best to check.

“Is this Mr. Dupain?”

“Yes? Who is this?”

“Please come to Hôtel-Dieu quickly. Marinette’s been hurt.” 

There was a moment of silence, but a commotion in the background picked up. “Sabine!” The phone was held to something and muffled for a moment, although he thought he heard ‘…go check on Marinette!’ before her father responded on the line. “What happened? What’s she doing out so early?”

“We, uh, went for a morning jog. But there was an accident, she’s been hurt, please. They’re taking her to Hôtel-Dieu.”

“Who is this?” her father demanded, panic quickly rising in his voice as more muffled noise came from the background of the line. He was certain they could hear the siren through the phone. 

“A friend. Please, just trust me.” Hanging up on him was near impossible as chaos broke out on the other end of the line, but he forced himself to do so.

He ran back toward the crowd, which was moving somewhat as the EMTs arrived and shooed them away. Even with them there, rubberneckers had their priorities, trying to see the young woman as they rushed a stretcher over. There was a small beeping noise. 

Her transformation. “Oh no.” He shoved through the crowd, “Get out of my way!”

As her transformation wore off, he hovered over her for a moment, trying to block their view, but it was impossible.

“Oh my god she’s just a kid, she’s so small.”

“She can’t even be out of school.”

“They’ve been fighting for how long now? They must have been children when they started!”

Of course it was Marinette, as he’d suspected for years. Just Marinette, small and fragile looking. The woman moved aside as the EMTs came in, but he caught her hand, gloveless and chilled. Time wasn’t moving properly, it felt slow and blurred. “Lady, come on Ladybug, please wake up, please,” the words were quick and quiet, but her hand was limp in his. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, I can’t do this without you, I’m supposed to be the one to make the sacrifice play.”

“Where’s Tikki?” Plagg hissed. “We have to find her!”

The small bag at her side…that had to be where her kwami was. Chat grabbed it as discretely as he could, fearing to let the kwami out in front of all these people. Instead, he threw the strap over his head and held her hand, waiting as the EMTs moved. Though their actions were quick and sure, it felt like forever, and he didn’t let go until they needed to move her. He stood, feeling hollow, as the ambulance disappeared. He felt a hand at his arm. The jogger nodded after the ambulance. “You should probably follow, make sure her parents show up.”

It was enough to spur him back into action. He gave her a brief nod, then dashed off, climbing a couple walls to leap along the rooftops, following the siren.

It never even occurred to him that one of the bystanders might have been taking video.


	2. Identité

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Look, until I get some kind of info on last names for characters, they’re going to wind up being named after their voice actors. Seriously. If someone finds out the last names for Nino or Alya, please let me know!

The tension in the emergency department was unbelievable. They were professionals, of course, but word travelled quickly. They had next to nothing, no name, nothing but the small, broken girl in front of them that the EMTs had told them was Ladybug. And treating the city’s heroine was rather higher stakes than any of them wanted to admit.

She’d been triaged before Dr. Holm got there. The preliminary check had turned up a number of likely injuries: a likely concussion, an entire side of broken ribs, and the lung underneath possibly punctured, not to mention a number of bruises and scrapes. Dr. Holm listened to her lungs and confirmed the likely diagnosis, hearing a crackling sound with the girl’s breath that made her heart sink. “Let’s get her down to testing for CTs, keep an eye on her blood pressure and oxygen in case of puncture. The ribs may be floating, and if so we need to…” she turned to a nurse handing her a tablet with more information.

“We have a couple here claiming their daughter was brought in after an accident. They said one of her friends called and said she would be here…and we don’t have anyone else here that matches their description.” Dr. Holm looked at the tablet, holding back a sigh. She could handle emergencies. It was her job to handle the people that came to her on the worst day of their lives. She could handle almost anything…anything but parents. Parents were difficult.

“Get her prepped for scans, I want a full diagnosis as soon as possible.”

Yes. Parents were difficult, not because they were bad people, but because it was difficult to talk to people when they were consumed with worry. When a child was brought in, too far gone to save, it was a slow collapse. She’d given too many praying parents bad news, seen the crushing weight of shock hit them. She had her own children, and the knowledge that it could just as easily be her in that position haunted her dreams.

As they prepped the young woman and moved her to a gurney, Dr. Holm went out to speak with her parents. What was going on? Where was Marinette? Was she alright? Her friend had called them, they said. They’d been out for a morning jog, they said. Was he here?

Her resident, Dr. O’Reilly spoke with them, trying to calm them. “She’s unconscious but she’s stable, we’re sending her down for a CT scan to try to determine the severity of the injury. We can have you confirm her identity, and we’ll go from there.”

“What about the friend that came in with her? The young man that called us?” Her mother spoke up, her voice carefully calm and firm.

“She was brought in alone, there was no-one…” the resident trailed off, realizing who must have made the call. “Oh. No, he didn’t come in with her. We still need a positive identification from someone, preferably her legal guardians, and then we’ll pull up her records to check and see if there’s anything else other than the obvious.”

Though both of them appeared somewhat relieved to hear she was stable, the news still seemed to unnerve them. “What’s obvious?”

The resident looked nervous. “Um…until we confirm you as legal guardians, we shouldn’t…”

“Let me take it from here. Thank you.” Dr. Holm looked at them, unsure how to explain the situation. “I’ll take them and confirm her identity, and we’ll go from there.”

She escorted them down to the waiting room for CTs. The couple moved along behind her quietly, although when she turned back to glance at them as she explained the need for CT scans, she found them holding a hand, supporting one another in a way she was almost unaccustomed to these days. She knocked on the door to the waiting room, slightly startling the PA that had been stitching up a gash in her forearm. “Excuse me, I’ve brought a pair claiming to be her parents, do you mind if we do an identity check?”

“Of course, and we’ll get her in for scans right after.”

The sight of their daughter on a stretcher was a bit of a shock. Something about the situation always seemed to shock parents, and this time it was between the paper hospital gown, the lurid bruises that bloomed across her visible skin, and the bloody gash that stretched from her browbone back into her hair and continued to slowly seep, even after it had been cleaned and stitched while waiting for the scans. Her father gasped, and her mother moved straight for her. “Can I hold her hand?”

Dr. Holm almost said no, but she let it go. “Sure. We need her information though. Her name?”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Her father’s jaw was tight as he spoke, fighting the words. “What’s the preliminary diagnosis?”

“Can I have some identification from the two of you?”

They dug out IDs, and she set them to filling out the girl’s medical history as she explained. “Currently, it looks like a number of broken ribs and a concussion, but we’ve ordered the scans to be sure. Depending on the severity of the fractures, she may need surgery to realign the bones, so they can heal.”

“What happened?”

“A um…” she hesitated for a moment. “A wall fell on her.”

Her father looked like he was about to say something, but her mother jumped in. “A wall? How on earth…?”

The words came pouring out before she could stop them. “Your daughter’s a hero. Several of us owe her our lives. I owe her everything, she saved my son’s life almost two years ago.” She took a deep breath and looked at these two people, ordinary and unsuspecting. They needed to know. “She’s Ladybug.”

There was a long moment of silence. They turned to each other, then back to her. The girl’s father spoke up. “Excuse me?”

“Ladybug. Your daughter is Ladybug. She was fighting someone this morning with Chat Noir and a masonry wall fell on her. And we didn’t have anyone to identify her when she was brought in, so we weren’t able to...”

Mrs. Cheng sat down and sighed in exasperation. “So the man that called us…?”

Her husband turned to her. “Chat Noir?”

Dr. Holm nodded. “He was on the scene, he and another woman dug her out. But after the EMTs got there and her transformation,” she searched for the proper words, based on what the EMTs had told them, “…faded, he disappeared.”

“Well,” Mr. Dupain frowned, disapproving, “for someone she’s been spending a lot of time with, I already don’t like this boy.”

His wife gave him an equally disapproving glare. “Maybe his was fading too, you don't know.”

He sighed and sat down beside his wife. “You have to defend him, don’t you?”

“He’s defended her for years.”

He grumbled, but let it go.

With the priority status, it didn’t take long to do the scans and have them sent back upstairs. The initial diagnosis was correct, and they prepped her for surgery. Certainly it was quick, but until they could set her ribs she was at risk to further injure herself if she were to wake. A number of the snapped ends of her ribs were pressed inward on her organs. One had even punctured her lung, and though it was only a single lobe, she was still in danger until the bones were pulled back into position and set with plates and screws.

Before they really had a chance to understand everything that had happened, they found themselves approving treatment, ushered away as Marinette, who was still out cold, was prepped for the OR. She was sent into surgery and her parents were left in the waiting area, alone to process their daughter’s identity. 

Outwardly, they seemed in control. Murmurs crossed the emergency department, those with their own kids astonished at their calm demeanors. Then again, only one of them was there when they were admitted to the recovery room, after the surgery had gone successfully.

“She should be alright, but you should know it’s going to be a very long recovery.”

Her father’s face crumpled with relief and they huddled together, watching their only child breathe, slow and shallow. After checking the girl’s vitals again, Dr. Holm left them to continue rounds.

She woke for a short time, looked around, frowned at her surroundings, and went back to sleep. She was moved from Recovery about an hour later, to a private room. She’d originally been assigned to a different one, but out of concern for the girl’s identity being exposed, they thought better of it and transferred her.

Her parents spoke in hushed tones, letting Marinette sleep off the anesthesia. That is, until a nurse knocked on the door. “We’ve got a call from the front desk, there’s guest up front for your daughter, says her name is Alya Karanen? Would you like us to let her come up?”

Her parents looked at each other. “Sure.”

Several minutes later, a gentle knock on the door prompted Mrs. Cheng to get up and open it. The first words out of Alya's mouth as she walked in were harsh and snapped, “If she’s alright, I’m going to kill her!”

“She’s alright, the doctors said it would be a long recovery, but she’s alright.”

Alya’s face crumpled and she put her face in her hands. “I’m so stupid! I should have known!"

Mr. Dupain put a hand on her shoulder. "We're her parents and we didn't even know. How did you find out?"

"Someone posted a picture from the fight this morning, her face was in it and I...oh no." Alya looked horror-struck.

He frowned. "Would anyone else recognize her from it?"

Alya shook her head. "No, and I didn't add it to my blog, the only people that would know her are the people at school...if it doesn't get spread around to them, nobody would recognize her, right? She could just make something up?"

Mr. Dupain put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on out to the hall, so we can talk about things. We’ll let her sleep it off for now.”

She nodded and stepped back out, her best friend’s father close behind to try and talk about what was happening.

“Is she gone?” the words were quiet and terribly weak.

“Have you been awake this whole time?” she turned back to her daughter and glared at her. It didn’t last long. She looked fragile and small, almost childlike again. 

“What? Wait, is that Alya?"

She sighed. “Yes it was, and yes she’s gone. For now. Your father took her to the hall to talk.”

"Ama I’m scared. I’m really scared.” Her voice cracked and she was forced to look at her daughter in a different light. Marinette had grown up quickly over the last few years, she hadn’t called her that since she was very young. 

“Sweetheart, listen, it’s going to be alright. You were really hurt, but…” she took a deep breath. Sure, she’d expected to deal with difficulties raising her daughter. What parent didn’t? But this…this was on an entirely different level. Nobody expects their child to spend their time fighting super villains under the guise of an alter ego.

Tears were running down Marinette's cheeks, and there was no way to stop them. Nothing hurt too horribly, what was the sense of her being in a hospital bed? “But why am I here?” her daughter looked around the room, lost. She looked down at the IV in her arm for a moment, uncomprehending. “Where’s Tikki?”

That genuinely puzzled her. “Tikki?”

Marinette paused, then made a drugged sound that fell somewhere between a hiccup, a giggle, and a cough. “Whoops, you’re not supposed to knoooow that.”

Mrs. Cheng sighed. Still, she wanted to hear the truth from Marinette herself. “Speaking of things I’m not supposed to know…is there something you’d like to tell me? Someone you’d like to tell me about?”

Her eyes shot open. “Did Alya say?”

“It sounds like Alya didn’t even know.” She couldn’t even be cross with Marinette, only slow. She could see her daughter was still terribly out of it from the anesthesia, and any conversation they had right now would likely be only half conscious. Still, this was important.

“Oh no, Alya knows all about him. I’ve had a crush for years but I gave up,” Marinette dropped her voice. “I’m not gonna tell him. Nathaniel was nice when we were going out that little bit but noooo Adrien never picked up on it. We’re just friends, I can’t…,” she gasped in pain, “owww...what is that? my chest hurts?”

“You just came out of surgery. Lots of broken ribs they had to fix. You’ve got quite a few plates and screws in your chest.”

She looked at her mother, genuinely puzzled. “Broken ribs? From what?”

Mrs. Cheng sighed. “Because you’re Ladybug, and you were injured in a fight this morning.”

The steady beep of the monitor jumped as her heart rate shot up. Marinette stared at her mother, aghast, before collecting herself and trying to recover through the haze of medication. “Me? Ladybug? Nooooo, she’s so…”

“You can drop the act.” She looked at her daughter for a long minute. “Your father and I already know. And if we didn’t, your heart rate skyrocketing would have been a pretty big clue.”

Marinette had been drug-addled upon waking, but she sobered up very quickly under her mother’s stare. “Ah…I don’t know where to start.”

“You can start with ‘I’m sorry’.”

“I’m sorry?”

She barely had time to get the words out before her mother cut her off, words that she’d been holding back flying out. “What were you thinking? All of those times you could have been hurt! How could you not tell your father and I?” The lack of anger in her mother’s voice was awful. Instead, it was sadness and disappointment. And ultimately, that hurt more than anger ever could have. “I just want to know why you wouldn’t tell us.”

The drugs still made her hazy, and it took some time to put a real answer together. She spoke slowly, carefully, tearing up as she went. “I was….I was scared. I was scared you wouldn’t let me go protect people” her voice cracked and the tears started running down her cheeks. “…because you were afraid for me. And I was scared you would get hurt, that you would try to protect me and get hurt. I didn’t want to put you in danger.”

“But you put yourself in so much danger, why would you be scared for your father and I? What do you think we would have done if you’d been killed?”

Marinette sniffled, trying to stop her nose from running. She winced at the intake of breath. “Nah, I’ve never been…”

“Marinette.” Her mother’s voice hardened and became brittle. “You are lying in a hospital bed with at least a dozen broken bones, a punctured lung, and a chest full of titanium plates and screws. Don’t you dare tell me you’ve never been in danger. This is just the first time you’ve been severely hurt.” A long moment passed in uncomfortable silence. “And I’d be willing to bet that most of the injuries you’ve blamed on clumsiness over the last few years weren’t from that. I’ve seen plenty of footage of ‘Ladybug’. I’ve even run into her myself a couple times.”

“Must have been weird,” her daughter’s face twisted as she tried to keep herself from crying again.

“In retrospect? Very.” Her mother’s mouth turned up, ever so slightly, with humor. Despite the pain, despite the painkillers and the bandages that wrapped about her chest, despite the strangeness of the situation, it was a bit of a relief to look her mother in the eye and know that the secret was out. For a moment, she had the urge to tell her mother about the myriad of other injuries, the bruises, cuts, everything. Not just the mistakes she’d made, but the adventures she’d had, the times she’d felt amazing for saving people. She wanted to tell her mother everything, everything she’d kept secret for years. She opened her mouth…but a strangled noise came out, as the breath she took sent splintering pain through her chest. Her heart rate jumped again and her mother let go of her hand gently. “I’ll go get your father.”

“What about Alya?”

“See, you weren’t entirely out of it. She can stay if you want her to.”

“She’s going to be so mad…”

Mrs. Cheng, ever practical, sighed and moved on. That was all she could do, keep moving forward. “I’m sure your father has talked to her. Besides, she’s your best friend. She’ll get over it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if you know anything about the French version of HIPAA, helllllppp.


	3. Public

The next hour was a bit of a blur for Marinette. 

She could remember what happened, but bits and pieces of those memories vanished without a trace. Her parents switched places, her mother going to the hallway to sit with Alya as her father came in to see her. 

She remembered tears in his eyes, but that couldn’t be right, could it? He hardly ever cried, she could only remember him crying at her grandfather’s funeral, years and years ago. He held her hand, ever the gentle giant, and said he was proud of her. Also that he was worried, and also that she shouldn’t have been sneaking out at night and also…something else. The world came apart a bit at the seams as the pain really set in.

A nurse came in to talk to her, to teach her how to use the patient-controlled analgesia system. All it took was the push of a button, and the nurse assured her she would start feeling the effects fairly soon. The nurse showed her father that the computer prevented her from dosing herself too frequently, and explained that Marinette was the only one who should administer the painkillers, seeing as she wouldn’t be able to administer too many doses if she fell asleep. She left, letting her mother and Alya in as she went.

Marinette looked up at her Alya nervously, remembering her mother’s words. ‘She’s your best friend. She’ll get over it.’

It appeared that ‘getting over it’ was not a phrase that could have been used to describe Alya when they finally let her in. 

“How did you go four years without telling me?!” Alya dropped down in one of the chairs near the bed. “I can’t believe you. You are the absolute worst.”

“Good to see you too.”

Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but Alya managed a grin. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Nurse said the painkillers might put me to sleep soon. Kind of hope so, it really hurts.” Marinette managed a smile, more of a grimace, to match her friend’s grin.

“You should rest. I just wanted to see how you were doing.” She hesitated. “And I was wondering if you’d be alright with me telling Nino and Adrien you’re in the hospital. If I don’t tell Nino, he’ll wonder where I am at school. And if I don’t tell Adrien, Nino’s just going to end up telling him.”

She thought it through as carefully as she could through the haze of the medication finally settling in. The four of them had grown close over the last few years. Alya and Nino had started dating a couple years ago, and at first the other two had just tagged along. Eventually, they turned into a tight-knit group, although it was always awkward when Alya and Nino had a spat. 

There was that, and the fact that Marinette was 99% certain that Adrien was Chat.

The certainty had grown over the years, but they’d agreed years ago that sharing their civilian identities was dangerous, even if they were nearly positive. So she never asked and never told, and out of their costumes they’d fallen into an easy friendship. It wasn’t what she’d dreamed of, it certainly wasn’t leading to a couple of kids and a hamster, but that was alright. She’d moved on, even dated Nathaniel for a bit. It hadn’t worked out, her friends had said their ‘I’m sorry’s and their ‘I told you so’s, and Adrien had worn a small sympathetic smile for days after the breakup. Chat, on the other hand, had been unbearable as soon as he found out she’d broken up with the boyfriend he’d been skeptical about in the first place. “Admit it, we’re made for each other. You would never be satisfied with anyone ordinary. All I have to do is purr-suade you.” 

She’d tripped him off the roof for that, as much for the awful pun as for the general glee in his eyes when she told him about the breakup. His words stung, even if she was starting to wonder at the truth of them.

“Marinette?”

She snapped out of her thoughts. “Um. Go ahead and tell them both I’m here, I had an accident or something.”

Her friend sighed. “You know, you’re going to have to tell them.”

“Tell them what?”

“You’re joking, right?”

Marinette slumped back into the pillows. “Maybe. No. I don’t know.”

“Think about how weird this is though!” Alya insisted. “I’ve been writing a blog about you for years and you just…let me!”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“I…you…” Alya sputtered a moment, finally realizing how convoluted things were. “Well. You could have at least let me get some exclusive shots.”

The cracked giggle that burst from Marinette quickly cut off and turned into a groan as pain lanced its way across her chest. She pushed the PCA button, suddenly unsure if it had worked when the nurse had taught her what to do. Tears sprang to her eyes from the pain and trying to blink them away did nothing but push them from her eyes.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s ok, it just…hurts.” The memories after that blurred again. She remembered talking to Alya more, but the topic was beyond her. If she had remembered, the conversation would have mortified her.

Flopped back on the pillows, Marinette’s voice was quiet. “Do you hate me?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Because of who I am?”

Alya struggled for words. “So why would I hate you?”

The painkillers were hitting her pretty hard, and the slur in her voice became obvious. “Because I’m just…me. Ladybug…so much better.”

“I would never hate you, Marinette,” she sighed. “Am I annoyed? Yes. Am I worried? Yes.” She looked a bit closer at her friend. “Are you asleep and deaf to everything I’m saying?” The silence stretched. She sat back and answered her own question. “Yes. I’m talking to myself. Great.”

Marinette’s parents were surprised when she came out to the hall to join them again. “She’s asleep.” She took in their expressions and realized just how hard this had been on them. Her own pain and anger at the whole thing faded, and she felt awkward. “If you want to go get food or, um, I don’t know. When did you find out?”

“Couple hours ago.” Mrs. Cheng’s voice was quiet, her eyes still slightly puffy from crying. “We hadn’t opened yet for the day, so we left one of our assistants in charge. She glanced down at her watch. “You should really get to school, if you leave now you might make it in time.”

“Yeah, no, I’m staying.” Marinette’s father started to argue, but Alya’s mouth set in a firm line. “And you both know the dangers of what’s happening, I told you how I found out. I’m going to follow the story and try to make sure she’s ok, and I can’t do that if I’m in class. Besides, I’m sure my parents will understand. Marinette’s my best friend.” She hesitated. “Although it would probably be best if we had a cover story for her, people will want to know why she’s in the hospital. Just saying she was in an accident might do it for now, you can come up with something more concrete later.”

Mrs. Cheng nodded. “I’ll go call the school and let them know.”

Her father went back to the room to sit with her, and Alya pulled out her phone. She needed to talk to Nino.

* * *

It was still early, and he knew if he didn’t figure something out soon he was going to be late to school. Nathalie was out of town with his father on a business trip, so he’d been able to buy himself a bit more time. Still, his father had a way of finding things out. If he missed school, or even if he was a bit late, Gabriel Agreste would find out. And he would not be happy.

“Can’t you just…heal her?” Adrien sat at his desk, where he’d gently placed Tikki on top of one of his sweaters. There was a large bruise on her head, but other than that there didn’t appear to be anything outwardly wrong with her. Except the unconsciousness. That was an issue. “Aren’t you guys supposed to have some kind of healing magic or something?”

Plagg, who sat on the desk looking the much smaller kwami over, squinted up at him and irritably crossed his paws. “See, healing things isn’t my thing, it’s hers. That’s why she always fixes stuff at the end of the day.”

“But she’s still out cold, and it’s been almost two hours! We need to try to check on Marinette, but we can’t just leave her here. How do we know she’s not….she’s not…” He couldn’t get the words out. The idea was too painful, losing Plagg like that would be hell.

The kwami sighed and rolled his eyes. “She’s not dead, that’s not how we work. But I can’t fix her either, she has to fix herself.”

“Can we do anything for her?”

Plagg shrugged. “Nah, just have to let her be awhile.” He took in Adrien’s expression and went on the defensive. “Look, it’s not like I’m being mean, that’s just how it is! It’s like…imagine you live in a house.”

Adrien looked at him flatly. “I do live in a house.”

“Right so if the house got knocked down, you couldn’t live there while you rebuilt it, right? Like there’s no roof or beds or fridge or any of the other stuff you need to live normally.”

“Alright…”

“So Tikki is repairing her house. She’ll come back eventually, but I can’t make it happen faster.”

It made sense. Adrien sat back in his chair, pacified but still concerned. “Can we…I don’t know, do anything for her in the meantime?”

Plagg shrugged. “Put her somewhere soft and warm, I guess. Leave Tikki a note and some food just in case she wakes up while we’re gone. Make sure Marinette knows she’s here. Not much else to do, we kwami really just take care of ourselves.”

Right on cue, Adrien’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. Nino had texted him. 

N: _Hey, has Alya contacted you yet?_

A: _No, what’s up?_

N: _Marinette’s in the hospital, some sort of accident._  
_She’s stable, but I’m gonna head over at lunch._

He wasn’t sure how to reply to that, but luckily he didn’t have to. Another text came through.

N: _Alya’s skipping to stay w/ her, she asked for notes._  
_You want to go over w/ me at lunch?_

A: _For sure. They know what happened?_

N: _Idk, Alya won’t say. I’m sure we’ll find out_

Well, he wasn’t wrong. It wouldn’t be long before the news was out, and they’d have to come up with something to cover things up. Still, if Alya was there with Marinette’s parents, they would come up with something clever to tell people.

He quickly wrote a note for Tikki in case she woke up, and at Plagg’s suggestion, he left some cheese. “Does she even eat cheese?”

Plagg shrugged and made a noise like ‘I dunno’ without any consonants. Adrien grumbled as he scribbled a note for Marinette, put it in her bag, gathered his school-things, and slipped her purse in his bag with them. With another concerned look at the red kwami, he ducked out the door.

* * *

School passed slowly, a horrible, slow, ticking feeling. The teacher told the class there had been an accident, and Marinette was in the hospital, but that things sounded like they would be alright. He wasn’t sure what that meant, and there were no details forthcoming, so he tried to put it out of his mind. It seemed to stretch on forever, and when they were finally freed for lunch he and Nino made a run for it.

Alya met them in the lobby and walked them up to her room. “She’s awake again, but the meds have her in and out of it a lot.”

Marinette was propped up on low pillows when they arrived, eyes closed. The gash across her face had fully swollen and was starting to purple as the blood settled, and the bruises across her arms had really started to bloom into ugly purple blotches. Nino’s eyes widened as it hit him that Marinette was actually hurt. The room was quiet, almost unnervingly so. Her father sat in the chair at her side, reading, and her mother stood up to give the kids hugs.

“How…how bad is it?” Nino struggled to steady his voice

Marinette’s eyes blinked open blearily. “Ehh, I’ll be alright.”

“Marinette,” her mother cleared her throat. “Don’t you dare lie to them.”

She sighed, and the wry twist to her voice became apparent. “Lots of broken ribs. They had to put in a bunch shiny new of plates and screws so they can heal.”

“Oh my god, what happened?”

She looked up at Adrien, eyes strangely clear. “A wall fell on me.” If she could have, she would have smacked him. He looked concerned, but the surprise on his face was fake. It had to be.

“Shit, what?!” Nino practically exploded. He sat down in one of the other chairs, scooting it toward the bed. “How?”

“Um…Marinette…I know you aren’t going to want to hear this…” Alya started reluctantly, “but you should probably tell them. They’re going to find out anyway.” She looked to Mr. Dupain, who had closed his book and was nodding.

His daughter looked between the two of them. “What?”

“We were talking about it earlier. The best way to keep you safe for now is to tell a couple people closest to you, and then deal with the fallout from there. If you have a couple people you can trust, it will make the next few weeks much easier.” He said it quietly, but the weight of it fell in the room.

Alya sighed. “Just…trust me. You need to tell them. I found out by accident. If these two do, they’re going to kill the both of us.”

She looked up at her three best friends through the slow fade of pain meds. “Um…so this is really not good.” She looked at Adrien, the carefully blank, confused look on his face. She’d been so certain it was him. He knew. He had to know. She knew it was him, there were too many things that couldn’t be coincidence.

Still. Doubt gripped her. What if he wasn’t? What if Adrien was entirely ordinary? Utterly and completely normal? What would he think? He had to be Chat, she’d been convinced for years that it was him…but what if it wasn’t?

Nino looked back and forth between the two girls. “Ok, what’s going on?”

“Uh… I, um…”

Alya gave a groan of exasperation. “Just tell them already!”

“I’m...Ladybug.”

“You WHAT?” Nino practically exploded.

She watched Adrien carefully. Sure, he reacted, but ever-so-slightly too late. It was a deliberate, controlled reaction, one she’d seen before on his modeling gigs. If she hadn’t been sure before, she was now. He already knew who she was, which only backed up her own theory and pushed the ‘99% certain’ toward 99.9%.

Nino shot a look at Adrien, remembering how horribly he’d liked Ladybug when he’d first started at school. For all that, he seemed to be taking the news remarkably well. 

The lunch hour passed fairly quickly. They tried not to talk about the elephant in the room, but Nino kept bringing up the time he’d been turned into the Bubbler, apologizing over and over for it. Marinette tried to brush it off, saying Alya had been turned into Lady Wifi and things between them were fine, but Nino took it particularly hard. 

As lunch came around, Marinette’s parents left her with her friends and went down to the hospital cafeteria to get something to eat. As everyone moved, shuffling seats and shifting around the small room, Adrien took the opportunity to slip Marinette’s purse out of his bag and onto one of the chairs. They couldn’t miss it there, and the note inside would hopefully help.

For once, Alya put her phone down as they talked and ate lunch. She’d settled in, and conversation turned to more boring school topics. Before long, Marinette’s parents came back, settling in again with Alya, who had pulled her phone back out to track the news. Marinette started to doze off and the guys got ready to head back to school.

As they said their goodbyes and turned to leave, Alya gasped. “Guys, wait.”

The both turned back. “What?”

“Marinette, are you awake? We need to talk. Please tell me you’re not asleep yet.” Alya showed something on her phone to her parents, who looked dismayed.

“Hmm?” the noise was noncommittal.

“Listen, you need to know this. There was a video, when you were hurt. Someone took a video and posted it, that’s how I found out you’re…her.” Alya looked uncomfortable. “And I talked to your dad, we thought that if people just saw your face, they might just let it pass. It’s kind of a blurry cell-phone video, it’s not exactly easy to tell who you are.”

Mr. Dupain stepped in, trying to take some of the weight off Alya’s shoulders. “We didn’t think anyone would be able to see it’s you, and it would just fade into all the other news.”

Alya grimaced. “But it looks like it went viral and someone knew you by name.”

Fear settled into a pit in Marinette’s stomach. “You mean…”

“Someone outed you, probably someone at school.” Alya held out her phone, showing them the title of an article. _“Ladybug’s Identity Revealed?”_

Marinette looked at the phone through drug-addled eyes in bleak horror, her blood pressure monitor jumping up. “Oh no…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critiques, comments, and questions always appreciated!


	4. Cadeaux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fluff in this chapter. Please enjoy the fluff now, because it's going to disappear very quickly.

Alya did her best to mitigate the damage as the afternoon moved on, but there was nothing to be done to stop the incoming tide. All they could do was stay afloat. Marinette’s parents refused to speak to a number of representatives of the media, insisting that their daughter would speak to them in her own time, but for now she needed to rest.

Alya watched as hashtags cropped up, Ladybug started trending, and threads started appearing doubting the legitimacy of the claim. She was sitting in the room when a nurse, looking exasperated, appeared at the door. “There are a number of deliveries for her at the front desk. Could we have you handle it? We don’t have the staff to make trips up and down to the desk who-knows-how-many times.”

The cards, the flowers, they were quickly overwhelming. Marinette woke to a table full of bouquets and a box of cards. She stilled as she saw what was on top of the box.

“Hey, who brought this?”

Alya looked up from her computer. “Hm?”

“My purse!”

“Oh, your mom found it on her chair. Was it with you when you were brought in?”

She opened it carefully, worried for Tikki but still afraid to expose her to Alya or her mother. The kwami was conspicuously missing, and her heart missed a beat and she dumped its contents on the bedcover. The folded piece of paper was the only thing out of the ordinary, and she snatched it up, pulling it open anxiously.

 _Tikki is with me. Plagg promises me she’ll be alright, for now she’s recovering._  
_I’ll visit sometime, hope everything goes smoothly._  
_Sorry for the sneakiness, just trying to stay under the radar._  
_-C_

She sank back into the pillows, significantly less worried.

As the day progressed, Alya handled things masterfully. She eased the burden on Marinette’s parents and handled most of the outside requests by firmly declining them. With their permission, she gave the front desk a list of their classmates, the ones that would be permitted to visit Marinette if they came by. In the end, she was a rock for them, sturdy and constant as they handled Marinette’s recovery.

Even with all the mess, Alya flew. She flew so high, a professional would have had trouble keeping up with her. She deflected press before they could get anywhere near the family, and was grateful for the stringent French privacy laws. She set up a twitter account for Ladybug, and taught Marinette’s parents how to use it to make official announcements. She navigated the PR fiasco of Ladybug’s identity being revealed like a professional, and something clicked.

She was good at this. Unbelievably good. It was as natural as breathing, the way scenarios might play out. All she had to do was prepare in advance for each and every scenario, and it was done. 

Few people ever found out it was Alya behind the scenes, but for the first time, she felt a calling. Among those that knew, none were surprised when she went into PR for her graduate studies.

* * *

After school, Adrien went home to check on Tikki. She was still out cold, and worry gnawed at him. Still, after Plagg promised him she was healing, there was nothing left to do but wait. And while he was waiting, he might as well go check on Marinette.

He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and got ready to go. It was only as he pulled his shoes on to leave that he was stopped.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

He looked up to find Nathalie. If she was back, it was only a slight chance his father was. “One of my friends is in the hospital. I was going to go visit her. She was hurt in an accident this morning.”

She frowned. “Ah. Well, give me her name and we’ll have some flowers sent over, you don’t have time right now. Your father made some changes to your schedule.”

For once, it was too much. “Nathalie, she was in an accident, just this morning. It’s serious, I don’t know…”

She sighed. “Give me her name, I’ll have flowers sent. You can go this evening if there’s time after your appointment.”

A much as it hurt, waiting another few hours wouldn’t be the end of things. He trudged through the appointment, distracted as nearly three hours dragged by.

It was the very edge of sunset as he left, far too late to go see Marinette again. That is, as himself. He vowed to go later, after he did a quick patrol loop.

* * *

Mrs. Cheng sipped black tea to stay awake, pushing herself to make the shift with some caffeine for support. She sat in the corner, the room mostly dark but for the small lamp she kept on, reading.

When she heard the noise at the window, a small scrape and the click of the latches, she’d almost been expecting it. The wide green eyes that peered in retreated for a moment as they turned to her.

“Don’t just sit there, come in if you’re going to come in,” Mrs. Cheng said, bemused.

The black-clad figure slipped through the frame and perched on the ledge nervously. “I…ah…”

“Come on in, I don’t bite.” She patted the seat next to her. “Besides, I’ve never met you. It’d be nice to meet the young man my daughter’s been spending so much time with.”

“Uh, it’s not like that. Really, we’re just…”

“I’d say that to any of her friends I hadn’t met.” She stared him down, unblinking, and he shifted uncomfortably. Mrs. Cheng’s eyes were dark and piercing, and he felt more exposed around her than he ever did behind the mask. It was as though she was peeling his skin back, looking for something.

“I…uh…”

“Why did you leave my daughter this morning?”

He found himself thrown off-kilter. “What? She was in safe hands, the EMTs were…”

“But why did you leave? You were the only person there that knew her.” The woman was relentless.

“I didn’t know her, per se,” he shifted. The leather of his suit, normally so comfortable, was itchy and too hot in places, sticking clammily in others. 

“You knew her well enough to call us. That was you that called, wasn’t it?” Her expression said everything he needed to know, and he was vaguely fearful of what she’d do if he lied. He’d only seen Marinette truly angry a couple times in their friendship, but if she was anything like her mother, he was certain he didn’t want that sheer righteous fury directed at him.

He nodded. “I suspected who she was, and when her transformation wore off and it turned out I was right, I just…” He took a breath, hoping she couldn’t see how nervous he was. “I called, because you needed to know. And my transformation was wearing off, I couldn’t stay. If I had, it would have blown both our covers, and it’s risky enough that hers is blown.”

Mrs. Cheng nodded, a smug smile appearing for a moment. He was flustered. “Is that…wrong?”

She laughed gently, warmer and smoother than Marinette’s laugh, but somehow familiar. “No, I simply get to tell my husband ‘I told you so’.” She stood up. “If you’re here, I’m going to go get myself more hot water. I’ll get some for you as well.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Cheng, I’m alright.”

She looked at him mildly, generally unimpressed, and shook her head. “I need to stretch my legs, anyway. And it will be good for you. It’s cold out tonight.”

“It’s really not…”

“No, no, I can see you want to see her. I’ll leave you for a few minutes, but I’ll be back.” Her voice was gently warning, but generally good humored. He relaxed as she left, realizing he’d been tense from the situation. He hadn’t expected to find anyone awake at this time of night.

He sat at Marinette’s side, his hand on hers. She couldn’t feel it, but it made him feel a bit better. She was recovering, everything would be alright. He just had to figure out how to keep the city safe in the interim.

She came back, having refilled her thermos, and he let Marinette’s hand down guiltily. She waved it off. “You want to hold her hand, hold her hand. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

He looked at the cup, at the free-floating leaves in it, and forced a smile. “Thanks.”

She settled down and the interrogation resumed, as though it had never stopped. “So what can you tell me about yourself?”

“Not….much.”

“How old are you?”

It wouldn’t hurt to tell her, right? “18.”

“And how long have you been,” she motioned at all of him. “Chat Noir?”

“A bit over four years.”

“And how long have you been interested in my daughter?”

He recovered smoothly, having almost been expecting it. “We’re just friends. I care about her like a best friend, she’s saved my life more times than I can count.”

“Hmm.” Mrs. Cheng stared him down, and eventually seemed to accept it. “There was something else. Oh, that’s right, I had another question. How did you get her purse back to her earlier?”

He’d let his guard down and the abruptness of it threw him for a moment and he choked on the tea. When he finally found words, his voice rose. “I’ve got a friend. One of the people that was in earlier. They said they could get in here, so I passed it on. They snuck it in here, huh?” He desperately hoped it sounded like one of the nurses was in on it.

“No need to be loud, she needs her sleep.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be too loud. I’ll whisker.”

Mrs. Cheng made a noise of disapproval. He couldn’t keep a wry grin from his face. “Sorry. Marinette doesn’t like my puns either.”

“Can’t blame her, that was awful.”

He shrugged. Conversation dwindled and fell to a standstill, and he looked up at the clock. “I really should be leaving, I just wanted to check in on her.” He climbed onto the ledge  
and slipped most of the way out the window, then shifted back in. “Could you close the window behind me?”

Mrs. Cheng smiled and climbed to her feet. “Of course. And I’ll tell her you dropped by.”

With a too-wide, too-white flash of smile, he nodded and was gone. She latched the window behind him, but stood looking out into the dark for some time after.

Marinette woke in the morning, bleary but cheered by the flowers. After she was checked and they were alone again, her mother settled in the chair to wait for her father. “You had a visitor last night.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Chat Noir.”

Marinette almost laughed. She could imagine him trying to sneak in, only to come face to face with her mother. “…and?”

“He seems like a sweet kid. His heart’s in the right place, at least.” She sighed and settled in her chair again. “Although the cat-suit is a bit much. Too…” She made a motion around her body with her hands, “clingy.”

The burst of laughter that forced its way out of Marinette’s chest shot through her like a lance, and tears burned in her eyes. Despite the pain, a small part of her appreciated her mother’s sense of humor.

* * *

The morning had been a step in the right direction, as far as Adrien was concerned. “Alright, she’s starting to come around, what do we give her?”

Plagg grimaced. “I could give up that really nice brie…”

“You haven’t eaten it yet…?” Adrien backpedaled at the thought of more cheese being stashed around his room. That would explain a lot. “Uh…Marinette always said she liked cookies.”

“Then why don’t you make some cookies?”

Adrien grimaced. “I don’t know much about baking.”

“Time to learn, then!”

“We can’t do it in the kitchen here! Nathalie is back.”

“What about Nino’s place?”

Several texts later, he found himself negotiating with Nathalie, trying to convince her he had to go to Nino’s to work on a school project. He found the lies tripping off his tongue easier than he would have liked. He was partners with Nino. Nino had the supplies they needed. At his place. So of course it made sense for Adrien to go over there.

Nathalie sighed, but let him go. His father was on another business trip, and had never come home, so he was in the clear.

Three hours later, with Nino’s assistance, he had a tray of cookies. They weren’t the nicest looking cookies he’d ever seen. In fact, they probably barely qualified as cookies. Still, the lumpy masses of dough and chocolate would have to do. He ran by the house and left a plate of them for Tikki. On the way out, he evaded Nathalie and headed out.

He and Nico had another visit to make.

* * *

By the time they got back to the hospital, Marinette’s room was crowded with flowers and a large box of cards, balloons and childrens’ drawings. They could see them through the door, as Alya told them what was happening. Marinette was back on the heavy painkillers, she said. Not everything that’s happening is fully clicking in this state. There wasn’t much to do about it but wait for the meds to wear off, but in the meantime, she was all over the board. She could be smiling one second and crying the next. 

Alya led them in, evading the flowers and balloons with relative ease. The boys had rather less luck, but none of it mattered to Adrien. He walked in and she looked up from where she was lying in bed, smiling slightly as she put the card in her hand down. “Hi!” There was an unusual, open fondness in her expression, and his heart tripped a bit.

He was lucky he didn’t trip over his own feet as he stopped dead, looking at the massive bouquet on the table. It was huge, almost hemisphere-like in its fullness, and it was shaped like a ladybug. There were dozens on dozens of red roses, with a couple of black roses dotted about for spots, and a cluster of black roses on one side forming the head of the ladybug with a pair of full white roses for the eyes. 

He looked up at her, and she smiled with the non-swollen half of her face. “Isn’t it beautiful?” the words were slower than usual, and he realized how strong the painkillers likely were.

Roses. There had to be…several dozen roses in that bouquet. The cost of something like that was like a punch in the face, but he recovered fairly smoothly. “Ah, absolutely.”

She looked at them glassily, then back to him. “They’re from a secret admirer.”

“Oh, really? I was going to have some sent over but…” he stopped, hitting himself inside his head. She thought they were from him. 

She looked up at him, wide eyed and confused. “Oh?”

Alya jumped in to save him. “They were sent over! This one,” She motioned to another large bouquet, made almost entirely from bubble-gum pink blooms in a clean white vase. Although he settled a bit with the knowledge that they had, in fact, arrived, he looked at them somewhat skeptically. There were a couple of roses in there, baby pink and delicate. 

He glanced back at the massive ladybug-shaped bouquet and jealousy bit at him. Someone had sent her hundreds of euros worth of roses. He had competition! They didn’t even know her, at least Nathaniel had known her. How dare they? A satisfied humming noise came from Marinette, who looked out the window aimlessly, her eyes reflecting the clear sky.

Still, the hour they were there to visit passed in a blur. Before long, they needed to leave. Marinette, who passed in and out of consciousness, couldn’t remember them leaving, but they were gone. She came around again when they brought her food, and from there on out she was awake, although she looked around the room through bleary eyes.

Alya kept up a low level of conversation, helping her through the evening with her father. Eventually her mother returned, ready to spend another night, and her father prepared to leave and take Alya home. As they left for the evening, Marinette looked at the small card in her hand, vaguely surprised to find she was still holding it.

It was the card that had come with the bouquet of roses. _“Til we meet at last, my lady”_. A small “ _X_ ” in the corner was the only identifying mark left behind.

“Something wrong?” Her mother looked concerned.

Adrien had covered for himself better this time, although doubt wriggled in the back of her mind. Perhaps it wasn’t him? Who then? She glanced at the bouquet again. The sheer number of roses was astonishing. Who cared enough to send her such an overdone gift?

She put the card on the stand next to the flowers. “No, just thinking.”

“Get some sleep, it’s getting dark. I’ll spend the night here again, your dad will be back in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The holidays are catching up to me, my apologies for any mistakes/poor editing. Definitely going to continue with the every other day schedule, although it may be less thoroughly edited than I would like. Besides, all the fun parts of this fic are rapidly approaching ;)


	5. Récupération

The night passed without incident.

Marinette woke and had breakfast, quickly becoming accustomed to the pattern of the hospital. Her father arrived, switched off with her mother, and she settled in for another day. The doctors came to check on her before long. She heard them discuss releasing her in low tones with her father, and he came back, concerned but somehow relieved.

Although Alya wasn’t there when she woke, it was Sunday and she showed before long. She discussed the situation with Marinette, telling her what was most likely to happen over the next few days. Marinette just wanted to know where Tikki was, and to find a way to keep the people around her safe.

* * *

Alya took the bundle of balloons from the nurse with a harried look on her face. “Is there any way we could put an announcement out to the general public that while cards or letters are appreciated, any money that would be put toward flowers or gifts should be donated in her name to Hôpital Necker des Enfants Malades?”

A rather nondescript man, sitting in the lobby, perked up at that and stood. He had a card out and pushed it into Alya’s hand before she could refuse. “Hi, I’m with the Kingsland Post. Are you Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s PR representative? If so, we’re looking to set up an exclusive interview with…”

“I’m sorry, but she’s not interested.” Alya brushed past him with a glare, heading back up to Marinette’s room.

As she left the lobby, things snowballed into a disaster. The man stomped out of the lobby, going out to sit on a bench in front of the main doors. He sat there, fuming about French privacy laws, as a deep purple butterfly landed on his camera.

* * *

Marinette looked up abruptly as screams down the hall cut off, falling eerily silent. The color drained from Alya’s face and she jumped up, jamming one of the chairs under the handle of the door. She paced the room anxiously as Mr. Dupain sat with his daughter, prepared to do whatever he needed to protect her. Still, when the akuma victim kicked the door in, the jammed door did little to stop it.

The noise was ridiculous, a sudden snapping rush of clicks. Marinette blinked, her eyes flooded with blinding light for a moment. When she was finally able to see, both her father and Alya were frozen.

For the first time in a long time, Marinette found herself completely helpless. Without Tikki, she couldn’t transform. Without help, she couldn’t even get out of bed. “Hah! I, Snapshot, have finally cornered you. You’re helpless injured like this.”

She looked up at him, worriedly. “Yes, you’re right. Now what do you want?”

He seemed surprised for a moment, as though it hadn’t occurred to him that she would negotiate with him and not fight back. Still, in her current state, he wasn’t surprised. “First things first, I want an exclusive photoshoot as soon as you’re well enough.” He threw a business card at her. It landed face-up on her bedcover. “That kind of exclusive would make my career!”

She glanced over at her father, who was frighteningly still. The empty silence that echoed down the hall said everything she needed to know about what had happened to the others on the floor. “Alright. Is that all?”

His smile at her agreement faded a bit, as though an internal voice was talking to him. “Ah, my friend wants something as well. Your kwami, where is it? You won’t be needing it in this state.”

The laugh that split the air was bitter and strained. “Is that all? Not here.” She glared up at him. “You can tell Hawkmoth that I don’t have her.”

The man stilled, then stopped. He perked up, as though listening to an invisible radio, then looked at her. “You…don’t have it?”

Marinette crossed her arms, affecting to look annoyed. “No.”

“Where is it?”

“Will you release everyone if I tell you everything I know?”

“You’re a minor, aren’t you?” he sighed. “I’ll probably need guardian approval for the interview, so yes. Now, your kwami. Where is it?”

Here, perhaps, honestly would be the best policy. “Chat has her, I don’t know.”

“What?”

“Chat Noir, the guy who usually tags along with me, has her.” She spoke slowly, as though speaking to a child. 

The akuma-victim looked at her blankly for a minute, as though listening to a voice only he could hear, then burst into laughter as the darkness bled from his eyes, leaving him no more than a middle-aged paparazzo. “And you have no idea where he is!” The stillness began to lift, and Alya and Mr. Dupain slowly regained their color.

Marinette stalled for time. “I don’t even know who he is, much less where he is. Quite frankly, I’m a bit irritated with him at the moment. He knows I’m out of commission, yet here you are. Boys can’t do anything properly.” She let a petulant and aggravated edge into her voice and she knew it was working as he smiled. 

The moment only lasted so long before the police burst into the room, grabbing him and pulling him from the room. He hardly even argued as they dragged him from the room, only yelled back, “You’re a teenage idol. If you let me, I can make the world love you. Give my publisher in the States a call, they know plenty of people in the industry.”

By the time people could move again, Marinette found her father and her best friend hovering around her. Alya was excited, almost bubbling over. “That was amazing! You talked him out of it, you don’t even need to be Ladybug to be amazing,”

“You could hear what was happening?”

“Every word of it!” she stifled a giggle. “Although I’m sure there are certain parties you’re glad didn’t hear you.” Her expression changed. “One question though, what’s a ‘kwami’?”

Marinette shook her head. “The source of my Ladybug powers. That’s about all I can tell you.”

“So right now, you’re not only injured, but you don’t have the…thing…that lets you turn into her?” Mr. Dupain looked uneasy. 

“Right.”

Her father hovered, moving in and out of the room in agitation. He settled before long, letting Alya handle it. The remainder of the day passed, thankfully, without incident.

* * *

Scrolling through his newsfeed over breakfast, Adrien kept an eye out for any breaking news on Ladybug, although he was in the middle of an article on the anti-aging benefits of chocolate when he spotted the newest bit. 

_“Ladybug denies relationship with Chat Noir”_ He gaped at the screen, then looked at Plagg. “What the…?” The article continued _“The newly revealed Ladybug, Marinette Dupain, revealed in an exclusive interview that she and her crime fighting partner, Chat Noir, are not a pair. Though still hospitalized, it seems clear that her newfound fame has suddenly made her the most desirable single star in Paris.”_

Plagg sidled across the table, curling under Adrien’s arm to read. “You knew as well as I did that as soon as her name broke, it was going to be hard to keep the press off her tail. You get stuck with that all the time, when they can get around the laws they’re relentless.”

“Not as bad as the fans though.” He sighed. “She’s going to hate it.”

“You knooow, there’s a solution to this mess.” Plagg gave him a sly look.

He glanced down at the kwami and stood up, putting the tablet in his bag and grabbing his plate. “If you’ve got a simple one, I’m all ears.”

“I mean, you could ask her out.”

Adrien Agreste, international model and teenage heartthrob, nearly dropped his plate. “What?”

“Just, you know, to cover for her. If she doesn’t want to be considered ‘available’, you could always cover for her.” Plagg landed on his shoulder, curling up near his neck. “As friends, of course.”

“She would never agree to that,” his voice was quiet and nervous.

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”

Adrien sighed remembering the tiny kwami upstairs, finally recovered. Perhaps not fully, but recovered enough to eat an entire plate of cookies for breakfast. “Let’s figure out how to get Tikki back to her first.”

“I mean, a note would be the obvious choice. Swing by, give her the note as yourself, and then show up as Chat tonight. You know, for a little midnight visit.” The kwami made eyes at him and he groaned.

“Shut up Plagg.”

“What? I’m just saying…:

* * *

Later, standing awkwardly at the hospital, he realized he would almost rather not know. He’d never needed to ask someone out to get a date, normally they approached him or his father set him up. Under the sterile lights of Marinette’s room, though, the idea seemed anything but romantic.

If anyone had asked him how he would finally ask Ladybug out, this would never have made the list.

“I was just…I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know I’ve dealt with the press I don’t know how many times, I thought it might be a bit easier on you if…” the words caught in his throat. 

She looked up at him, uncomprehending. “If what?”

“I don’t know, if you…” When the words finally came out, it was in a rush, like a dam had broken. “…wanted to be seen with me in public a couple times. You know, just so the papers would give you a bit of a break. I know maybe it’s a stupid idea, but I thought it might give you the room you need when you’re finally released.”

“You’re…asking me out?” she stared up at him, aghast.

The sinking feeling that she was disgusted at his forwardness dragged him down and he blabbed even more to try and cover himself. “Look, I know we’re just friends, but I saw the headlines this morning and thought maybe it would make things easier on you and I…it’s just an idea, I just thought I’d offer…”

“That would be nice.” Her cheeks burned red, that couldn’t be a fever, she was…blushing? He stopped, realizing that maybe he wasn’t the only one embarrassed by the entire ordeal. “You saw the article, huh?”

His laugh was low, unusual for Adrien but not altogether strange. “Hah, yeah. But you could always prove them wrong by being seen in public with me.”

“Ah yes,” her smile was wry. “I really ought to show that Chat he’s not the only friend I have.”

Adrien smiled, and although they talked for another hour or so, it was menial. They talked about school and the upcoming exams, which Marinette would almost certainly be back in time for. When he left, Marinette found herself painfully bored. Later that evening, she found a small note, secreted under her pillow.

 _Tikki is conscious. I’ll bring her by as soon as she’s strong enough._  
_-C_

* * *

There had been an akuma attack while he patrolled, and without Ladybug’s purifying powers, it had been tricky to take down. It had only ended when he turned Cataclysm on the akuma itself, freed from the plumber’s wrench. It had hurt to destroy the akuma, as though a certain amount of dissipated evil had clung to him. When he finally made it to the hospital, Chat was a bit worse for wear. “Look, I’m going to be totally honest, it’s really difficult trying to take the akuma down without you.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she nearly argued for a moment, but finding Chat lounging in the small alcove of her window was too entertaining to stay mad at him. “I took one down without you, you lazy tom. Where were you when that awful photographer decided I was the biggest scoop of his career?”

At least he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Uh, not here. Taking care of a friend. One I thought you might want back, now that she’s conscious.” He opened the pouch he carried at his side, thankful he’d been able to temporarily leave it on a nearby rooftop before going after the akuma-victim.

“Marinette!” Tikki’s voice was still small and weak, but she perked up more than she had in days. Chat held her out, leather-clad hands gentle, cupped in a nest. As Marinette held her hands out and he gently transferred the kwami, he fought to keep his hands steady. She was too easy to read, her eyes wide and grateful. 

Marinette held her close, cradling her close to her neck. “Tikki, I’ve missed you.”

The kwami curled up at the crook of her neck, in the dip of her left collarbone. Although he would never admit it, her bones had become slightly more prominent over the course of the last few days. Marinette was thin enough, she didn’t have much extra weight to lose. The slight wasting that was happening as she sat in the hospital was enough to make her look rough about the edges, and worry gnawed at him.

“Your face looks awful,” the kwami noted, breathing it into Marinette’s neck. Suddenly, Chat felt that he was intruding on something intimate. 

“Not as bad as my ribs did.”

Tikki looked up, alarmed. “Are you alright now?”

“Well, they’re still broken, but they’ve screwed them all together.”

The kwami frowned. “I can’t fix everything, I’m not strong enough. Not yet.”

“Probably start with her ribs then?” Chat jumped in as politely as he could. 

Tikki shot him a grumpy look. “Alright, alright, give me a minute to try and figure out the damage.”

The kwami crawled down to her chest and Marinette grimaced. “Careful. It’s all stuck together but it’s still technically broken.”

With a sigh, the kwami sat on her, looking miserable. “I can speed up the healing process, but the plates and stuff are already there. I can’t do anything about those, they’ll have to stay.” She looked at Marinette, her eyes welling up as though she would cry. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”

“It’s alright. It’ll all be ok, we’re back together now and you’re alright as well. As long as my ribs heal as soon as possible, it’ll be fine.”

Tikki giggled. “You’re so lucky I can do this. But it’s going to hurt.”

Marinette smiled. “I know I am, and I’m very grateful. Even if it hurts.” She looked down as Tikki sat atop her chest, making some sort of weird motion.

Chat took a nervous step back as Marinette’s mouth opened in a wordless cry and her eyes clenched shut as weird red light and lines began to trace about her ribs. He watched in horrified fascination as the kwami glowed, transferring much of her glow to the girl beneath her. Marinette arched off the bed in a near-obscene motion and suddenly he was all-too aware of how personal this was. He pulled the curtain to give her a measure of privacy, and waited.

Minutes felt like ages, but before long Marinette spoke up. “Chat? You still there?”

He peeked around the curtain. “How are you?”

The bruises still covered her face and arms, and she looked exhausted. The kwami was asleep, curled up against her neck. “Tired.”

“You should get some sleep.”

Her eyes were soft and sincere as she nodded. “I will. And thank you for taking care of Tikki.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” He shot her a massive grin and scampered out.

* * *

The next morning, at her insistence, they sent her for another set of scans. The shock that rocked the medics as they realized her ribs had healed was nothing on her parents’ shock, or Alya’s. She shrugged it off as a superhero thing, and there was nothing else to be done about it.

She was released, sent home with doctor’s orders to get plenty of rest to finish healing. She took a couple more days from school, resting and trying to catch up. Alya, Nino, and Adrien were a huge help in that respect, and It wasn’t long before she was ready to go back.

The first day back was absolute hell. She thanked her lucky stars for her close friends, and for Adrien’s offer to help stay low in the eyes of the press. With him at her side, she faced a week of critical articles and then nothing. What was there to criticize her for? He, on the other hand, found himself thrown into stark contrast. 

Article after article came out, villainizing him. Ladybug was too good for him. He was only going out with her because she was famous. He was only after her because his own fame was dwindling, he was only a model because his father was famous.

To say it was uncomfortable was an understatement. Critical articles almost always centered on his own dates, and to have that turned around on him was unnerving. Nathalie was furious when she found out.

It became apparent that he would have to be more careful when Nathalie pulled him aside after breakfast three days later. “You’re spending time with that girl, the one that came out as Ladybug?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

“It’s dangerous. She’s dangerous. Think about all the attacks, they all happen when she’s around.” She hesitated. “It looks like you’re only interested in her because she’s famous.”  
He shook his head. “She’s an old friend, and until the press settles down, I’m not leaving her to them.”

Her lips pursed. “I didn’t want to do this, but your father wants you to distance yourself from her.”

Adrien sighed, grabbing his bag. “Fine. I will.”

Her expression was wary, as though she knew he had given in to easily. “You’d better.” 

He didn’t.

* * *

The end of the school year passed in a rush. The four of them became a small, tightly-knit group, with one objective: protect Marinette. Whether it be from the press or the public, people at school or people on the street, it was tricky to move her under the radar.

Akuma attacks became more frequent, and their efforts more directed. It became apparent Hawkmoth had taken her identity into account as they increasingly targeted the school, their friends, the bakery. Although Ladybug almost always showed up and saved the day, it became clear that it was wearing on her. Between preparing for exams and her superhero duties, the purple shadows under her eyes never disappeared entirely. It became clear to her parents that this wasn’t sustainable. 

After graduation, Marinette spent much of her time at home, defending against anything Hawkmoth might send. It wasn’t uncommon to spot her sitting on the roof, talking with Chat Noir. She tried to keep it safe on the home front, and he would run missions trying to track the purified butterflies back to their owner. Still, it was an impossible task. There was no pattern to be discerned after they were purified. Even after a month of earnest efforts, they were no closer to tracking him down than they had been.

When her mother was hurt in an attack, the front window of the bakery blasting inward and leaving her with a number of gashes, Marinette knew she couldn’t let them stay. Here, they were in constant danger, and would be until Hawkmoth got what he wanted or was taken out. She was running out of options.

It still came as a surprise when the family disappeared without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the off-schedule posting, the holiday got the better of me. I'm hoping to go back to the usual every-other-day posts. But hey, family is important.


	6. Nouveau Départ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long, but it covers a fairly long chunk of time. Apologies in advance, but this is the setup for the endgame, and there were a lot of points that needed to be covered in a short time.
> 
> Also, I pulled out a (SPOILERY) chunk and put it in a totally separate chapter. Like a really long footnote. The link is available at the end.
> 
> Enjoy!

Rumors flew. Some said that the monster behind the akuma had finally succeeded in defeating Ladybug, and that he’d killed her and her family in his efforts. Some said that she was a coward, and had run from Paris to live her life in peace. Some said she had run, but with nobler intentions, planning to come back when she could end the threat once and for all.

Very few came close to the truth.

Through some sort of complicated legal procedure, the ownership of the bakery passed into the hands of one of the assistant bakers. People that knew Marinette and her parents worried, but remained quiet. Those that asked questions were shushed, and over the course of the next month, people forgot that Ladybug was a real person. She slid into the odd half-light occupied by realities as strange as urban legend, and the only things left to prove she’d ever been there were memories.

And Chat. Somehow, he held the stream of akuma to a flat rate. Nobody knew how he did it, but somehow he scraped by. When Ladybug had been exposed, he’d maintained his near-unbelievable demigod-like status. He couldn’t be human, even though Ladybug had been exposed as such.

The damage, though, was a painful consequence. Ladybug had used her miraculous powers to repair things after almost every akuma attack, and without her, the price was high.

* * *

Marinette sat on the steps outside the new house, a small place in Aix-en-Provence. Everything about the place felt watered down and thin compared to the constant bustle of Paris. But if living somewhere new was what it took to keep her parents safe, she’d do it.

They’d pulled off their disappearance masterfully. There were a few careful confidants, but no one knew all the details. Through Marinette’s influence, their applications for legal name changes were fast-tracked. Alya had been retrieving their mail and sending it to them digitally. Although she knew the risk, Alya had insisted on helping.

Marinette sat on the porch, checking her email. At least here she didn’t have to wear the fake glasses she’d taken to wearing in public. Sure, the area was smaller, calmer, and less hectic than Paris, but she’d had full pictures of her face published. She’d changed her appearance, and she still wasn’t sure about it.

She’d gone to cut her hair with her mother, who had cried when she saw Marinette’s pixie cut. It was short, spikey, and did nothing to hide her face, but in an effort to change the appearance of her face, she got rid of her bangs. Going short seemed the most logical decision, as attached as she was to her hair.

She’d held it together when her mom had seen her. Marinette smiled and pretended to love it, but at the time, she hadn’t been sure. Tears sprang up in her mother’s eyes, and she’d nodded solemnly.

The bus ride home had been quiet. At home, they sat at the table and talked over cups of jujube tea. “Your hair makes you look older.”

“Yeah, I know. I need to look different though.”

Her mother nodded and sighed. “I’d complain you’ll never find a boy with short hair like that, but it just doesn’t feel as important. I’m glad you’re safe. Here, we can make a new start.”

The word _proud_ never left her mouth, but Marinette had never felt so loved. 

Life had moved on.

The pattern they’d fallen into felt painfully mundane. Her father had started baking again, and although they didn’t have the ovens or supplies for massive batches, his cake decorating service had somehow burst onto the scene in the little town. They’d had a small welcoming party for the Kerlo’s, the new name the Dupain-Cheng's were using, and he’d brought a cake for everyone. The first order for a custom cake came in a week later, and business had been steady since then.

Her mother had taken on a job as an accountant for a local small firm. Her formal education had been in accounting, and it was a steady, reliable income. Until they had their feet under them again, they had to do what they could. Marinette had seen the way it was wearing on her, but in the nights, when she came home, she insisted on helping with the stock for the next day. They had gone back to exclusively French pastries, afraid to blow their cover by making the unique blend of French and Chinese baking they’d been famous for in Paris.

Marinette helped her father in every way she could and hoped desperately for an acceptance letter from L’institut Marangoni. Suddenly, she was incredibly grateful for the tiny online shop she’d started a few years before. With no friends in this new village, she had plenty of time on her hands. The store offerings grew, and she had fairly steady, if small, sales of skirts and accessories.

Financially, they stayed afloat. Nobody identified Marinette, and the strange, quiet lifestyle became the new normal.

* * *

Adrien's life had slowly come apart at the seams. Between balancing the schedule set by his father and dealing with all the akuma, he was run to the bone. He knew he needed to tell his father the schedule was too strenuous, but what kind of excuse could he make? He couldn't tell the truth.

So he avoided his father and sank further. Bruises bloomed on his skin after fights with painful regularity. He kept people from finding out by making a long overdue shift to collared button-ups and ties. They covered his arms, looked formal enough for a student going into business, and his father seemed to approve. 

He sat at breakfast one particularly painful morning, nursing a cup of coffee and trying to ignore the mess of bruises on his side, earned the day before fighting a particularly stupid but strong akuma-victim that had tossed him into a building.

He struggled to eat, and eventually decided it wasn't worth the effort. He'd pulled his phone from his bag to check his schedule for the day when the door opened. He looked up, expecting to find Nathalie. Instead, his father sat down at the table, not an unusual occasion but one that happened infrequently when Adrien was around. He sat there in silence as his father settled into one of the other seats, unsure if he was expected to stay or not. He got an answer as his father rearrange things and said, “So. What are you up to in some of the spare time school used to take up?”

Adrien couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Prepping for school…? Is there something else I should be doing?”

“No, nothing in particular.” He pulled out his laptop and opened it, clicking a couple times before pausing. He looked at his son, appraising and silent for a time. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about, though. You made the right choice. That little girlfriend of yours seems to have got the message.”

Fury bit at Adrien, but the angry words he might have said were caged behind clenched teeth. “We were never actually dating. Nathalie knew that. She was my friend, she was my friend for years. And I did it to protect her from the press, but now she’s gone.”

“Gone?” His father, hardly ever interested by the happenings of his normal life, deigned to show so much emotion he raised an eyebrow.

Everything about his father’s manner seemed callous and disaffected. For the first time in a long time, Adrien found that he cared about what his father thought of his friends, and it made him furious that he could care so little about Marinette and her family. “She and her family disappeared.”

“Well. Not much of a hero in the end, hm.”

“What do you know? She got through school and still had time to keep Paris safe. Sounds pretty heroic to me.”

Gabriel Agreste was known to be severe, but few people had ever been fixed with one of his glares. Adrien had, although only twice, and as his father looked up at him over the top of his laptop, he felt a rush of fear and anger. “And what happened? She failed. She put you and her other friends at risk simply by existing. That’s not a hero, that’s a selfish person with power.”

“How could you possibly make that distinction without being in her shoes?”

The disaffection in his eyes sharpened into something colder, harder. “Do you think I got where I am today by letting people push me around? I did what I believed in, I followed the path I felt was right, but I stayed clear of the people I felt I could hurt along the way. If I cared about them, I stayed distant and kept them safe. Certainly my position of power and hers are different, but power and control are the elements that move the world. I stayed clear of the people I loved that I had the capacity to hurt on my rise. She did not. Her power was irresponsibly used. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t feel a child should be given such power.”

The words stung, and Adrien very nearly took a step back. “How can you care so little about the people you love? All she wanted to do was protect her friends and family!”

For the first time in years, his father was genuinely incensed. Anger crossed his features and he rose from his seat. “You could have been hurt! Her recklessness could have gotten you killed!”

Adrien was taken aback, and it must have shown on his face. “What, so suddenly you…care, or something?”

His father stared back, astonished. His face twisted and Adrien thought he had pushed too much, that his father would lay into him like an incompetent assistant. Instead, he took a breath and sat back down, deflated. “I understand I haven’t always been there for you. But I want you to be safe. I don’t want…”

Adrien knew where this was going, and he wanted no part in it. “Yeah, I know, you don’t want what happened to mom to happen to me. I get it.” He pushed his chair back and climbed to his feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need some time to think, and I don’t want to talk about mom.” He stopped at the door, somewhat surprised by his father’s silence. For the first time in his life, he was done being pushed. He was ready to push back, and this fight was as opportune as any. If his father was thinking through his words, maybe now was the time. He took a deep breath. “For the record, I’m doing fine. One of my best friends is gone, out of the blue. I graduated, I’m going to school for what you wanted me to. All of my friends are going different directions, and for all you knew, I just broke up with my first real girlfriend. That’s not what it was, but that’s as much as you knew. You pretend to care, but you didn’t know any of that.” He took another breath to steady himself. “So yeah, I’m fine.”

He turned and walked away, half expecting to be yelled back to the dining room. The silence almost worse than screaming would have been.

On reflex, he pulled his phone out as he walked, but hesitated and put it away again. That evening, after a particularly vicious akuma attack, he pulled his phone out again. He sat, staring at the small, blank screen. What if she didn’t answer? What if she never answered again?

He hit ‘call’.

It rang out. No answer. He didn’t leave a voicemail. She didn’t call back.

* * *

The next few days were a disaster. Between ever-increasing akuma attacks, the fight with his father, and preparations for entering college, he barely had time to sleep. When he had the chance, he found himself plagued with the thought of Marinette being hurt or in trouble, or somehow just unable to reach him. So he called at least once a day, never getting an answer.

It just made matters worse, like picking a scab partially away, just enough to make the end scarring worse. And it _hurt_ , the idea that he might never see her again. Where had she gone? Was she even in France anymore? Had they fled the country?

Heartsickness slowly seeped in, dragging him down. He’d hardly seen Nino or even Alya, as though they’d left town as well. He started calling her each time he destroyed an akuma, hoping beyond hope that she’d pick up. He’d sit on the rooftops and fight the well of misery that seemed to grow with each fight.

It was two weeks after his initial call that the line clicked. “Chat?”

He was so surprised, his voice caught in his throat.

“Hello?” her voice was strange, almost hollow.

“Ladybug?”

There was a small gasp on the other end. “What are you doing, calling me?”

“What, I can’t want to talk to my partner?”

She seemed a bit taken aback by that, and for a time they fell back into their usual banter. He told her about what was happening, about the increasing akuma attacks. “Do you think you’ll ever come back?”

She was quiet for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Where did you go?”

“Into hiding. I have to keep my parents safe. As soon as everyone knew who I was…” The implication was clear. She couldn’t be both Marinette and Ladybug, the risk was too great. He paused. Maybe his father was right about that.

“I understand. I just…I miss you.”

Her voice was tight with emotion when she spoke again. “I miss you too.”

“If you’re not coming back, maybe someday we could meet. Really meet, not just, you know, Ladybug and Chat.”

She laughed a bit at that, “Maybe someday. I don’t think it will be any time soon though. It’s too dangerous for you.”

“I wouldn’t mind you knowing who I am.” He took a deep breath. “It’s hard to do this alone.”

“I-I’m so sorry. I’d change it if I could.”

Silence over the line stretched until Chat finally cleared his throat. “So…talk to you again sometime?”

“Sometime. Good luck?”

“From you, my Lady, that means a lot.”

She sighed. “I don’t seem to be as lucky as you think.” There was a long moment of silence. “Sleep well when you sleep, Chat.”

* * *

It was later that evening that everything came to a head.

“Tikki, you can transfer the Ladybug powers to whoever you’re with, right?” Marinette’s voice was quiet.

The kwami looked at her suspiciously. “Yes? I can transfer them to whoever I choose. But I’m picky. It can’t be just anybody, it has to be someone with a good heart. Why?”

Marinette looked as though she would be sick. The words, when they came, were barely more than a whisper. “I think it’s time for you to move on.”

Tikki stared. “What?”

“Tikki…” Marinette’s eyes welled up. “Chat needs help. He needs a Ladybug to help him, and I can’t do that.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Tears flowed freely now. “Yes, I do. I need you to find someone else to be Ladybug. Someone to help him. He can’t do it a-alone.” 

The look of betrayal in the kwami’s eyes was awful. “You’re sending me away?”

It was at that point that she fell apart. The world she’d grown up in was collapsing around her, and she was telling her closest friend to leave. She’d left her best friend and lost her school friends, the boy she’d loved for years who was almost certainly her partner, her home, her ability to keep Paris safe, and her hopeful future career in fashion. She did it all to keep her parents safe.

And they were worth it. She wouldn’t change the decision she’d made.

Tikki curled up by her neck as she sobbed, the weight of the world on her shoulders suddenly too much. It was crushing. She didn’t want to carry this. It had been easier to be Ladybug, just Ladybug. Ladybug was so strong. Marinette, though…Marinette was only human.

“If you really want me to…” Tikki spoke slowly, fearfully. “I’ll go.”

“Will you do this for me?”

“Oh Marinette…” Tikki’s eyes were full of tears, drops nearly as big as her paw-like nubs. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Then I want you to go find a new girl to be Ladybug. Paris needs someone to be Ladybug, and Chat needs someone to help him. And I want you to try to keep her from making my mistake. Don’t let another girl get caught.”

The kwami nodded. “Can I stay until the morning?”

“Of course.”

“And if you change your mind…”

The tears started running again and she choked on a sob. “I won’t. But you should stay til the morning, you’ll be safer.”

They talked a lot that evening, pointedly avoiding the impending separation. They talked through the night, talking about Marinette’s dreams, what Tikki looked for in a potential candidate, and the last few years.

When Tikki left in the morning, the hope she’d held cradled close to her chest crumbled, and she crumbled with it. The collapse wasn’t slow, as it had been the night before. This time she snapped, curling in her blankets and crying herself to deep, blessedly dreamless, sleep.

* * *

Even though it had been her decision, everything hurt. Anger and resentment festered, like an open wound. Chat called, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone. Her parents noticed the change, worrying as their once social daughter became a recluse.

A month passed with little to speak of. She went day to day helping her father and sewing. She’d just about given up any hopes of acceptance when she got an email from Alya, a scan of her acceptance letter to L’institut Marangoni. She shrieked, dashing to the kitchen where her father was at the table, rolling, cutting, and forming small sets of pastries that needed to chill overnight. Her mother was washing dishes, and it was clear from their expressions when she came in, a hurricane in human form, that they’d been talking about something serious.

“They accepted me! L’institut Marangoni!”

They both looked at her with surprise, then the world burst into chaos. All three of them spoke at once, her mother caught her in a hug, soapy hands and all, and her father barely remembered to wipe the flour from his hands before enveloping the other two in a massive hug.

When they finally broke apart, Marinette looked about at the two of them. “I know it’s back in Paris, but if everyone thinks I’ve left…”

Her mother shook her head and moved back toward the sink. “Ladybug has left. You could go back under a different name. Your new name.”

“It’ll be dangerous.” Her father spoke up, a worried look on his face. “The attacks have gotten worse.”

“Tom, let her think.” Her mother rinsed a dish and put it with the other clean dishes in the dishwasher to dry. “He is right though, it will be dangerous.”

She took a deep breath. “I think I need to go talk to admissions.”

They looked at her, uncertain but wanting only the best for her. Finally, her father said, “I think you need to go. You’ve been accepted to your dream program.”

Marinette could barely keep her excitement in. “There's something else...I got a scholarship!”

Her mother turned and nodded. “I will call in to work, we’ll go together.”

“I’m sure I can go by my…”

“I don't like these Admissions people. They took too long to accept you. I will argue with them if I need to.” With that, it was settled. The two of them were headed back to Paris.

* * *

Marinette packed and they set off the next morning. It was mid-afternoon when they arrived, and though Marinette considered herself fairly articulate in high-stress situations, it took her mother’s unrelenting stubbornness to get a rapid decision for acceptance with a new legal name filed with the admissions office. 

“Two weeks,” they said, “and we will need you to return to sign the remainder of the papers and provide your updated identification.”

So that was what they did. They returned to Aix-en-Provence, and for nearly two weeks they returned to the new grind, but somehow it was different. The weight and pain no longer weighed on Marinette so heavily.

The night they returned from Paris, however, she had an unexpected visitor.

Her clock read nearly midnight when she heard the small taps on her window. “Marinette!”

She rose from bed, unsure if she was dreaming. She cracked the window, ever so slightly, and stepped back in surprise at the red flash that rushed in. “Tikki? What are you doing here?”

“Um...I need you to be Ladybug again…” The kwami’s voice was small and ashamed, and Marinette’s heart wrenched. Still, she had made up her mind.

“I can’t, you know I can’t take that risk. It puts my parents in danger.”

“Marinette, please! I can’t find anyone with as good a heart as yours!” Tikki looked dejected, her eyes welling up.

“Look, we’re not strong enough to protect them! If you’re with me, my parents are in danger. They’re safe here! If I’m not strong enough to protect them, I can’t do it! I can’t be Ladybug, not if it’ll put them in danger.” She dropped down in her desk chair, on the verge of tears again.

The kwami seemed to slump for a moment, even as she hovered in the air. Then she perked up. “What if I were stronger?”

Marinette looked up at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard stories about how kwami can get stronger. A long time ago, I saw it happen.” Her voice dropped with fear. “That’s what happened to Hawkmoth before he was evil.”

Marinette started. “Wait, what? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t seem important. He’s been sending akuma after you, so why would it matter?” She shrugged. “But if I can find a way, so you can protect the people you love, will…will you take me back?” The kwami hummed about excitedly.

“I just…I can’t do it if I can’t protect them.”

“They might still be in danger if you’re not Ladybug, you know.”

“I know, but I have to hope that without you, Hawkmoth doesn’t see me as a threat.”

“But Paris needs you! Chat needs you!”

Something bitter curled about in Marinette’s chest. “Not likely. From what I hear, he’s holding up fine without me. He said it's hard, but he'll manage.”

“Please Marinette!” The kwami sounded like she was going to cry.

She sighed. “Alright, alright. If you can figure out whatever it is, something to make us stronger, I’d agree to it. But if I can’t protect them, I won’t do it.”

Tikki nodded, bouncing up and down in agreement. “I can do it! Trust me on this, I’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t be so sure. It’s going to take a lot to stop Hawkmoth.”

The kwami rolled her eyes. “Hmmpf! You don’t believe in me anymore.”

The look in the girl’s eyes was haunted. “I don’t. I don’t even believe in myself. And that’s what Ladybug was, she was all about confidence and being able to save people. With that gone…”

The kwami nodded. “I understand. Don’t worry Marinette, I can do this. I’ll come back to you when I’m stronger, and we’ll stop them together.”

For the second time, Marinette watched the kwami leave. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the gentle flutter of wings that accompanied the kwami’s departure.

* * *

The second trip to Paris was positive and fairly uneventful. They finished the appeals process with the Admissions office and visited Alya for a short time. The two girls were overjoyed, sharing stories for hours before Marinette and her mother needed to return to the train. 

What they didn’t expect was the phone call on the train ride back. Marinette watched the blood drain from her mother’s face and couldn’t help but overhear.

There had been an attack at the house in Aix-en-Provence.

Her stomach clenched with fear until her mother hung up and took a deep breath. “Your father’s in the hospital, they’re treating him for a broken shoulder and they think a couple of ribs. Not as bad as yours.” 

“What happened?”

“There was another akuma attack.”

* * *

Tom didn’t pull any punches when they got there.

“They left as soon as they learned she wasn’t here.”

The world spun around Marinette. Someone had found them. Somehow, Hawkmoth had found her again. 

“We have to find somewhere safe,” the heartbreak in her mother’s voice wrapped around Marinette’s heart and squeezed. Her mother looked between the two of them, between her father and her, and Marinette realized that by staying with them she was putting them both in danger. Danger she could no longer handle. Hawkmoth had found her, and he would almost certainly find her again. 

“The two of you need to run. We’re going to separate, just for awhile, until I can stop this. I’m going to head back to Paris, to school, and you two are going to go under cover again. They’re not after you, they’re after me.” 

“No, you can’t!” Her father looked horrified. 

Her mother shook her head, but something about her demeanor told Marinette she already knew how this argument was going to end.

She looked her father in the eye and told the most convincing lie of her life. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. What I need is for you two to be safe.”

* * *

It took the better part of a week to set their plans. Marinette prepared to return to Paris, and her parents prepared to disappear. She stayed silent, not telling them of the risks she ran. The danger of returning to Paris without Tikki was high, but she had to get away from her parents, to keep them safe.

They said tearful goodbyes on the train platform. Hugs were awkward, with her father’s shoulder braced and immobile. She climbed on the train, fear clenching in her stomach. It was practically a suicide play, walking into the den of the beast without defense. She kept herself on track by reminding herself that she had to draw her trail away from her parents. Hawkmoth wasn’t after them, he was after her.

She arrived in Paris and moved into a small set of rooms she’d rented, hardly bothering to unpack. She spent two days, half-expecting an akuma to burst through the door, before she started to relax. It was five days after she’d returned to the city when she found herself sitting in the open window, staring out at the silhouetted rooftops that she knew like the back of her hand. 

Was Chat out there, fighting some akuma? He still called, although with lessening frequency. She didn’t answer, and though guilt ate at her, it seemed the best thing to do. Maybe he’d finally found someone else.

The pang she felt in her chest was horrible, and for a moment she thought she’d start crying again. A couple deep breaths pulled her back and she got to her feet, climbing out onto the fire escape outside her window.

It was at that point that she was hit by a dive-bombing kwami. “Marinette, Marinette! I’m back!”

She was so surprised she almost lost her footing. “Tikki! What are you doing here?”

“I told you I could do it!” The kwami dropped a pair of earrings in her hand and shimmied about in the air. She looked a bit larger, as if she’d grown, and a bit more black than Marinette remembered. “It was hard to find you again, but I told you!”

“What exactly did you do?”

The kwami looked sheepish. “I can’t really tell you. It’s an old secret, we’re not really supposed to do it unless there’s a dire need and…I didn’t really get approval from anyone else before I did it.”

Marinette stifled a laugh of disbelief. “You expect me to just…become Ladybug again? What if it’s still not enough?”

The kwami rolled her eyes. “Look, just try it. If you still don’t think we’re strong enough together, I’ll leave ‘cause there’s nothing more I can do.”

The earrings sat in her hand, cool metal that felt unfamiliar after so long. She took them and slowly put them on, feeling the weight of responsibility fall on her shoulders again as she put them on.

Tikki floated a bit above the railing, practically vibrating from excitement. “The transformation will probably be a little different, but if you use some of your memory of the old transformation and combine it with my new power, it’ll work!”

Marinette took a deep breath, fear and anticipation curling in a ball in her stomach. If she was going to have to face Hawkmoth, she might as well do it as Ladybug. “Alright. Let’s do it. Transform me!”

The kwami leapt into the earrings. The surge of power hit Marinette like the first time she’d transformed, a shock to the system like stepping into the ocean and being caught by surprise by a wave. It was like being dunked into a tank of ice, then pulled out and born into a stronger, more powerful body.

She gasped a breath, feeling the thrill of power in her skin. She looked down at herself. She tried to find the words for it but came up painfully short, settling for, “That’s…new?”  
A pulse of warm approval flowed through the suit as the kwami’s response. She took a deep breath, feeling the familiar strength of the suit flow through her and flutter across her skin like a light electric current, stronger than before.

“This, I can work with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.  
> Hey guys.  
> Guess what?  
> The whole thing with Tikki? That's a pretty big problem.
> 
> Want an explanation?  
> (SPOILERS) See: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5379149
> 
> Want it to be a surprise? Don't read it, wait to find out in real time with Marinette.


	7. Retour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the break in posts :/ On a more positive note, that break was to take finals and *gasp* graduate. Yayyy, I'm finally done. My brain is incapable of editing. *curls up in a ball and sleeps for days*

It had been too long. She refamiliarized herself with the rooftops, moving from haunt to haunt with ease. She’d had little to do during the time she’d been in Aix-en-Provence, and what little time she spent outdoors she often spent running. 

The streets were familiar, the rooftops even moreso. She walked along ridges, danced across gutters, and felt the familiar shingles, tiles, and gravel under her feet. Patrolling was one of the few things that helped to relax her, and the tension that slowly grew in her chest during the day could only be relieved by hunting the night for akuma.

Over the course of her few days, there was no sign of akuma. There was a wisp of unease that swirled around in her stomach. It was quiet in the city. Too quiet. When she returned home, she searched for records of attacks and found that the last few weeks had been mild. It seemed Hawkmoth’s efforts had been centered on her presence, and without her, the city had been fairly quiet. Sure, there was the occasional akuma victim gone mad, but nothing like the sheer volume she and Chat had fought.

Interesting.

Days passed. Marinette kept up her pattern, patrolling for most of the night and scraping through the day on too much coffee and very little sleep. Oftentimes, Tikki was incredibly tired as well. Though Marinette had no idea what the kwami had done to gain the extra power she could feel pulsing through her skin each time she suited up, it seemed to be wearing on her. When she spent time cooking, Marinette made sure she had a steady supply of sweets for her. She certainly deserved it, with all they’d been through.

A full week had gone by when she finally spotted a familiar figure strolling along an old route of theirs, little more than a shadow a couple blocks away.  
It seemed he hadn’t seen her. The anticipation of mischief curled in her stomach and she couldn’t keep herself from smiling. A surprise, then.

* * *

He patrolled. It wasn’t the same without Ladybug, quiet and lonely. More than anything, he hated fighting the akuma on his own. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, but he couldn’t purify them the way she did. Instead, when he found himself up against an akuma, he was forced to kill it to stop it from inhabiting another victim.

It was a dark twist. He’d never thought of it before she left, but he’d found it was possible to stop the akuma without purifying them. It made him feel filthy, like he was killing so much more than a butterfly. He was killing himself, little bits of hope in finding HM and stopping him. Each one he found and stopped broke him a little bit more, and he was tired of it. So tired.

The last few weeks had been almost peaceful. It was as if Hawkmoth had finally tired of the game, and he worried that it had something to do with Ladybug’s radio silence. If he had finally caught her, the game was over.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a shadow. It was little more than a shadow, something small and dark. Still, it was enough to set him on the alert, adrenaline flying through his veins. He approached slowly as the shadow stilled, and took off after it as it bolted. He chased it across rooftops, struggling to make the figure out in the cloud-cover darkness. On a large, flat roof, he skidded on the gravel across the roof and found he’d lost his target.

“Here kitty kitty,” the words came out of the shadows, smooth as silk.

He perked up and couldn’t keep a wide smile from slipping out. “I’d know that voice anywhere.”

“Surprise,” she stepped out of the shadows, into the light, and held her arms out to spin theatrically. “Miss me?”

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut and he gaped at her for a minute. If she had been confident before, now she looked…more confident? More mature? The front of her suit was mostly black, with small segmenting red lines that ran upward and wrapped over her shoulders. As she turned, he could see the red covering her back down to the back of her knees, spotted like her old costume. The rest was near solid black, but for the spotted red gloves.

It was sleek and sexy and it dawned on him that even though he’d somehow missed it, she wasn’t a kid anymore. The girl he’d known had filled out curves on top of the long, lean frame she’d had for years. Gone were the pigtails, and her hair was spiked up in a pixie cut, still black, that for a moment he was jealous. What product did she use? She looked dangerous as hell, and his heart gave a lurch, trying to drag itself out of his chest as his nerves got the best of him and bunched into a hot ball of metal in the pit of his stomach.

After a long, long moment, his brain finally caught up and started doing its job. His partner was back. He leapt at her, sweeping her into a huge hug. “Oh my god you’re back!” She let out a gasp as he squeezed her and he realized that perhaps he’d moved too fast, maybe she wasn’t ok with…

“Good to see you too,” she giggled, finally hugging him back. He hoped she couldn’t feel his heart pounding horribly. Thank goodness for the mask, he hadn’t been so flustered in years.

They finally separated. “So that’s a…um…very different look?”

She bounced with excitement, and he could see his old partner showing through the new look. “Right? Tikki found a way to condense the different kinds of power my Miraculous makes, and she did something in secret. She won’t even tell me. What do you think?”

His first thought flickered to the forefront of his mind for a moment before he shoved it away. Even then, the words stuck in his throat for a moment. “You look older.”

“What, are you jealous you’re not the only one with a slick suit now?” She beamed, although it faded a bit as he looked at her, trying to take her return in. She eventually sighed. “We all have to grow up sometime, Chat. I learned that when my cover was blown. Playtime was over, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“What? No, not what I meant at all! Only that I’m still wearing the same lame cat-suit I’ve always had.” He looked at his ring. “What’s up with that Plagg, hmm? Can’t keep up with the times?” He could feel a pulse of resentment through his suit, although Plagg stayed silent in his mind. “So how is life treating you? When you’re not behind the mask?”

She leaned against a chimney. “That’s…difficult to answer, to be honest.”

“Try me. It’s been awhile since we’ve chatted.” He snorted at his own pun, and she grimaced. “I’d like to know what happened when you left. And what’s with the uh…suit upgrade?”

“Well, for starters, I sent Tikki away.”

He about fell from his perch in shock. “What?!?”

“Yeah, I thought that maybe without her, Hawkmoth wouldn’t come after me and my parents.”

“So what happened?”

“It didn’t work.” Her mouth had a grim set to it and his heart sank.

“And…?”

“An akuma victim came after me, but I wasn’t home. It hurt my dad pretty badly though.”

He gaped. “So what did you do?”

She shrugged. “Tikki came back, stronger than ever. My parents left, for awhile at least. They’re safe. I came back here. For now, it’s safest for them to be far away from me. That akuma didn’t target my dad on purpose, it was after me.”

“So…you’re back in Paris for good?”

She smiled. “Well, I got into L’institut Marangoni, so as long as I can balance that and being Ladybug…”

He jumped up. “That’s great! Congratulations!”

She held up a hand, blocking his hug. “But…there’s one conditional.”

“Hmm?”

“We have to find Hawkmoth. My parents won’t be safe until we do.” Her eyes, icy and blue behind her mask, were cold and determined. It was a bit unnerving, but he could understand that determination after what she’d been through. He thought back to what his father had said, about staying away from the people you loved in order to protect them. It seemed Ladybug was making a similar choice.

He nodded agreement. “Definitely.” At his agreement, her expression softened, although it still wasn’t as gentle as usual. He changed the subject. “How about your friends?”

Her grim expression faded somewhat. “Well, one of my friends, turns out his father didn’t like him being associated with me. Being Ladybug is dangerous, you know.”

Guilt caught him even as he tried to feign innocence. “Ah, what happened?”

She rolled her eyes, playing along with the game as she always had. “Too much danger around the girl that was Ladybug. I found out through a friend, although he stuck by me for awhile, even though he was told not to.”

“Sounds like a pretty cool guy.”

She gave a dry laugh. “Nah, his father was right. I’m dangerous. It just stings. Besides, I got out as quickly as I could once I realized the risks.”

He nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, looking for a change of topic. “Have you managed to keep people off your trail by changing up your everyday appearance as well?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “My parents are moving again, so they should be safe until things settle. It took awhile, but I’m back in the city. I’m using a new name,” she laughed a bit, more like her old self, “but I’m not telling you who I am this time around.”

“You didn’t exactly tell me last time…”

“Don’t let any walls fall on you, kitty. No more room for your bad luck.”

He grinned. “Ahhh, but I’ve been working alone, I’m a bit more, shall we say, on my guard.” He climbed down and moved toward her, finally feeling like things had resolved themselves. “But for now, you’re back in Paris! We should celebrate! It’s the city of romance and intrigue, and you’re sitting on rooftops with a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower with none other than your favorite feline sidekick.” He stood up and stretched, looking up at the sky. “Look at how bright the stars are! And the mew-n!”

She groaned. “Oh my god, cut it out. That setup was awful. I thought you might have given up on the awful puns.”

He couldn’t stop himself. “Sorry, I fur-got you don’t like them.”

She gave him a dry glare, although the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. “I swear, Chat, you are the absolute worst.”

“And you, my lady, are the best.” He found himself smiling. ”It’s good to have you back.”

* * *

They fell back into an easy pattern, similar to the one that had been broken months before. They went about their business as usual, occasionally meeting up to patrol. They would trade patrol duties, each calling the other only if they needed backup. There seemed to be fewer akuma, although those that showed up were strong. 

Chat found himself wondering exactly what had happened to the Marinette he’d known. She’d always been courageous as Ladybug, but she had grown bolder, less forgiving, and occasionally reckless. He found himself working more cautiously, realizing that someone had to make sure neither of them wound up dead.

Still, the news had only just broken and the city fell in love with her all over again. There was plenty of commentary on the costume change, but most of it was positive. There was rather more backlash over her hair, but people seemed to get over it quickly enough.

He was prepared for just about anything that could hit them on the public front.

He wasn’t prepared for Alya to call him, near frantic. “Adrien! Marinette is back!”

“I saw the headlines. Do you know where she is?”

The sigh on the other end of the line told him all he needed to know. “No, and she won’t tell me. I’ve been talking to her since she left, but now she’s saying it’s safer for me not to know.”

“I mean, from what you told me, she’s right. That’s why they had to leave in the first place, to keep her parents safe.”

Alya groaned with exasperation. “And while I get that, she’s my best friend.”

“I know.” The line was awkwardly silent.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His gut twisted nervously, but he hid it when he spoke. “Sure, what’s up?”

“It’s kind of personal. And it’s after the fact, it’s too late to do anything about it even if I’m right, but I have to ask. And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, I just…want to know.”

“Hmm?”

“Did you ever look at her as more than a friend? Or was that whole dating thing completely fake?”

Of course Alya would have known. Of all people, Alya would have known. She could read people like books. And now, it wasn’t even worth lying to her about. Alya didn’t know who he was, he was still safe in that respect. Still, his chest felt tight as he said, “Yeah, I did.”

“And now?”

This, he could handle. “I would, but I haven’t spoken to Marinette in months.” Not exactly a lie. He’d spoken to Ladybug, and she was going by a new name. So no, he hadn’t spoken to Marinette.

He could hear her breath, slow and careful, over the line. “Alright. I was just curious.”

“Let me know if you manage to get ahold of her, alright?”

“I will. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

* * *

Marinette fell into the pattern of her new life. She went to school and very quickly proved her competency. It wasn’t long before she found herself working in one of the design labs, helping with a number of projects a mentor set out for her. With the smaller number of akuma, she had enough time to keep her online shop up and had a small but steady income. 

Living on her own in the tiny studio was different. More than anything, it was quiet, and she found herself listening to podcasts when she got bored of her favorite musicians. When she got bored of podcasts, she would listen to the police scanner, hoping for a report to follow. At night, she patrolled more often, restless and angry. No matter how she hunted, she had no trail to follow, nowhere to start. She would spend entire nights out, agitatedly combing the city piece by piece, to no avail. 

It didn’t help that Tikki was exhausted most days. Marinette spent most of her nights in the suit, and the efforts were wearing on the tiny kwami. She was ready to go when called upon, but Marinette couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting her under so much pressure.

The closest thing she’d found to a trail to follow was through the freed akuma. The first time she and Chat fought one after her return, she snapped the akuma victim’s sunglasses and watched the akuma take to the sky. Chat had watched her, waiting for the yoyo to lash out to catch it, but she’d remained eerily still.

As the akuma gained height, she took off, trailing it. Chat hesitated, then followed. She trailed it halfway across the city before it landed atop an awning and stopped.

“My…Lady?” He caught up with her, somewhat out of breath and thoroughly confused. 

“Shhh.” She watched the butterfly closely, but didn’t approach. 

“Why…?”

“Trying to pick up a trail.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Look, there it goes again!”

They ran after it, sprinting through the streets, holding back occasionally when it stilled, its wings flickering slowly as it sat atop a flower or street lamp. After following it for nearly half an hour, Ladybug gasped as the akuma made straight for a jogger.

There was no more time to stall. She sprinted toward it, snatching it out of the air mere inches from the jogger’s headphones. The jogger started at her sudden appearance, but pulled herself together quickly. Ladybug snapped her a casual salute and ran off again. Chat followed nervously, wondering why she was waiting to purify the bug.

Once hidden on the rooftops, she opened up her hand, showing him the prize they’d won for their efforts. The akuma flapped pathetically in her hand, one of its wings crushed. When she clenched her fist, crushing it, she winced and closed her eyes.

He couldn’t help but be surprised. Ladybug wouldn’t kill the akuma. That sin was supposed to be his alone. Yet here they were, and he could feel the guilt in her. “What are you doing?”

Even behind the mask, she looked like she would cry as she released the remains of the butterfly into the wind. The wind whipped and stung, and for a moment he couldn’t tell if the welling tears were from the stinging air or not. She looked up at him, and he could see hell in her eyes. “I’m doing what it takes to survive. We can’t wait anymore.”

He felt a chill run down his spine. He’d never seen this kind of determination in her. “What’s your plan?”

“Try to track him. The only way we have to do that right now is through the akuma. If they’re not going to lead us back to him, we can’t let them go.”

“But the butterflies, they’re not at fault, if you can purify them we shouldn’t…”

She looked at him, aggrivated. “Isn’t that what you were doing? Why you used cataclysm on them?”

“I didn’t have any other way to stop them!”

“Well, you did the right thing. We can’t risk him having an endless supply of them.”

“It doesn’t seem right. Where’s the justice in that?”

“How can you say that? There is no justice, that’s not what this is. This is me, trying to stop the person that ruined my life and attempted to kill my family.” Anger took over her voice, ripping his expectations apart. She glared at him before running away, springing from rooftop to rooftop with ease.

He couldn’t quell the uneasy clench in his stomach as he found himself alone atop the rooftops again.

* * *

The next time it happened, he was prepared. He knew she wanted to try to track the akuma back to Hawkmoth, it only made sense. 

The victim was a gardener, ranting something about roses and the disrespect of average people, not recognizing the value of the botanical garden. Ladybug caught the akuma-victim’s arm and slung a leg around her waist, disregarding the thorns that protruded from the woman's skin. After dropping the gardener to the ground like a sack of potatoes, Ladybug climbed back to her feet, her suit blooming with pricks of blood and flashes of skin underneath.

She ripped the spade from the woman’s hands and slammed it down on her leg, snapping it. She glanced at him, questioning. “Ready?”

“You alright?" He looked her over, noting the small spots of blood, barely visible as darker splotches on the red of her legs. She nodded. "Alright. Let’s go.”

They pursued the butterfly across Paris, sprinting and climbing over familiar rooftops to keep up. Despite the familiarity, Chat lost his footing on a loose gutter and nearly fell, caught at the last moment by Ladybug, who caught his wrist as he lost his footing.

When he’d found his feet and looked up, the akuma was gone. Judging by Ladybug’s expression, she’d lost track of it as well. Her face twisted, as though she was fighting with herself.

“You alright?” Chat finally asked. After a moment, she pulled herself back together but enough was enough. He wasn’t leaving without an answer. “What’s wrong?” he stopped himself before he said what he was really thinking. _What’s wrong with you?_

She smiled, her expression brittle. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You can talk to me, you know.”

“I miss my family. I just…I just want things to go back to the way they were.” Her expression was tight and worried.

“We’ll make it happen. We just have to trust in a bit of your luck.” He shot her what he thought was a reassuring smile, but it backfired.

She snorted. “Are you kidding me? I used Ladybug’s luck for too long. Now I make my own luck, I make things happen myself. There’s not any time for waiting. Last time he found my parents, he nearly killed my dad. I’m out of time, I have to find him.”

“Hey, we can do it, but we have to stick together! Don’t try to ditch me like you did way back there.”

Her mouth curled up in an uncharacteristic snarl. “Not if you’re going to be useless!”

“What…?” Her words cut him to the bone.

“We don’t have room to spare for mistakes, Chat! That nonsense on the roof back there? We don't have time for that. This isn’t playtime anymore, we have to find Hawkmoth and end this.”

“What do you mean ‘end this’?” he asked guardedly, his skin prickling. The way she’d said it rubbed him the wrong way, as though she would go to unthinkable measures.

Her eyes were icy with determination. “Whatever I have to do to stop Hawkmoth, I’ll do.”

“There has to be a line…”

“Hawkmoth destroyed the line when he went after my family!” Even with the mask, he could see the way pain twisted her expression, a look he’d never seen from Marinette. She collected herself and took a slow, steadying breath.

“Look, we’ll find another one, track the next one. It’ll be alright.” He tried to sound reassuring, but it did nothing to improve the situation.

“If you’re not going to be useful, just stay out of my way.” She pushed past him, turning her back and making for the edge of the roof, as if to leave.

He stepped back as though struck as she turned away. “What the hell are you talking about, this isn’t my fault.” She didn’t look back to him. “If you’re mad, look at me, fight with me, but don’t just walk away from me.” He grabbed her shoulder to turn her back, and she shoved his hand off her shoulder the moment it touched. She caught his collar to keep him at a distance.

“If you can’t keep up, stay home.” Her eyes, which had been icy and cold only a moment ago, seemed too deep. The well of emotions there was too deep, like the ice had been cracked and the water underneath was an endless pool that he was terrified to take a dip into. “Chat. I can’t spend time trying to protect you as well.”

“I’m not asking you to protect me! It’s like you think I haven’t been doing this for years, like I’m suddenly useless!”

“I can’t risk losing you!” Her voice cracked and the tears welled up. She’d been gripping his collar, but he found himself gripping her shoulders, afraid of her falling. It all clicked into place. She was hurting, she was scared. Things he’d never really seen from her before were bubbling to the surface, fear and anger and pain seeped out through her cracking voice.

“You won’t!” He didn’t hesitate, pulling her close to his chest in a hug and hoping she wouldn’t push him away. She didn’t, slowly collapsing into his arms instead. If the situation had been different, he would have been thrilled, finally holding Ladybug and hugging her like his life depended on it. As it was, he could feel the weight she carried and all he could do was keep her on her feet.

“You can’t promise me that.” She took a breath. “I may never see my parents again, if I don’t stop Hawkmoth. I can’t see my closest friends, in case he tracks me to them. I can’t be myself, I’ve lost the life I used to live.” She looked up at him and he could understand the determination he’d seen. She was fighting for everything she’d been, and everything she wanted to be. “I can’t lose you too.”

“Then no, I can’t promise you that. I don’t know how far this is going to go, or where it will end. But,” she turned her face up to look at him, “you need to understand that we’re in this together. And in doing this, you’re asking me to be alright with losing you. And I’m not.” He took a deep breath. “You’re one of the few real friends I have, and the only one I’d trust like this.”

The turn of her mouth wasn’t a full frown, but it was impossible to defuse the situation entirely. She nodded, accepting what he said. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to calm herself.

When they parted, they did so once again on amiable terms.

Worry gnawed at Adrien. While he was glad to have her back, the change in her scared him. Ladybug had always been compassionate and loving, but her love seemed to have twisted as she’d grown afraid. He pushed the thought aside. It was something to deal with another time. 

They needed to find a way to track an akuma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter begins the chapter(s?) of endgame. Hawkmoth's plan will become apparent and our heroes are going to be hurting. Like, a lot. Apologies in advance! Just brace yourselves, cause it's gonna get ugly.
> 
> We'll see if we can put together the semblance of a happy ending for them.


	8. Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cries quietly*
> 
> It's done I'm letting it go off into the void all by itself I can't try to keep reworking it anymore. I've tried making this work so many different ways, and I wound up sticking mostly true to the original draft (with the addition of Master Fu).
> 
> Please don't hate me I promise there will be a happy ending.

Days passed in a blur, narrowing into her single objective: find Hawkmoth. Each time an akuma appeared, she tried to track it, with or without Chat. Each time she lost it, or it tried to infect a new host, she lost a little bit of hope, slipping further into the despair that slowly consumed her.

Marinette knew she was pushing Tikki too hard. She spent most of her time in the suit, prowling the rooftops for any sign of the bastard that kept sending akuma after her. Her time out of the suit was spent on schoolwork and letting the kwami sleep.

The life she was living felt hollow. The simple things in life didn’t seem to shine as brightly as they did before. A cup of coffee in the morning to wake up and greet the day quickly turned into a pot of coffee spread over the entire day, driving her through the sluggishness that seemed to drag her down.

She missed her parents, and hoped to god they were alright. Surely she would know if they weren’t? Surely she would have heard something? No news was good news. She talked herself into it, and repeated it so many times it became a mantra.

No news was good news.

* * *

The news she finally heard was not good news.

Her appearance had made a splash in the papers, but soon they took up a new story: a second Ladybug, one with a different costume. The papers questioned if one was a fake, who they were, and why there were two of them.

Marinette saw one such paper and snatched it from the table in the workshop where someone had left it.

“Two Ladybugs? Bullshit.” The words were gritted under her breath, and though it was uncharacteristic of her to swear, it felt right. It fed the flames that slowly kindled in her chest at the thought of someone pretending to be her, a fake, just like Chloe had been when she was akumatized.

An akuma. Of course. What other explanation could there possibly be?

And it was settled. She had to hunt down the fake. There would be another akuma there, and she could track it. Assuming Chat didn’t make a mess of things.

* * *

They met on a rooftop, just as they had many other nights, but this time, it was different. Ladybug was visibly agitated, enough that it seemed to boil over into her motions, making them stiff and sudden. Chat looked at her worriedly. “There’s another rumor making the rounds. A second Ladybug…?”

For her part, she took it fairly well. As well as she could be expected to take an imposter, at least. “It’s a sham.”

“I mean, clearly.” His smile was wry, just enough to humor her. 

“But who does this girl think she is? It was bad enough when Chloe was akumatized as Anti-bug, but this? A second me? How dare she?” She ranted, pacing irritably.

“Sounds like we need to go hunt her down.”

“Of course we do, she’s been akumatized. But it just makes me so mad!”

* * *

The first night led to nothing. Same with the second and third.

The fourth night, they met on the rooftops after a report came on the news. Another akuma attack, and the Ladybug imposter was on the scene.

When they finally met up, she was excited, bright and shining like she hadn’t been in ages. In her excitement she planted a kiss on his cheek and the world seemed to stop for a moment as his mind shut down. Just a moment, though, because then his mind rebooted and started _flying_ through scenarios.

Although the kiss seemed a bit odd, coming from her. She was usually much more subtle when flirting. Witty banter, a smile bright enough to make him want to melt into a puddle on the floor, sure. But a kiss?

He brushed the thought off. Stress had been getting to him. He had to be overthinking things. “You’re in a good mood. What’s the plan?”

“We’re going after the akuma victim pretending to be me.” She grinned, her yoyo spinning in clever fingers with ease. “And then we’re going to track the sorry thing straight back to Hawkmoth.”

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

* * *

It was almost like the old days, the way they tracked their old paths, falling back into old patterns. They found the girl in the 5th arrondissement, standing on a rooftop and looking tired.

“Whatever Hawkmoth promised you, it isn’t worth it!”

The girl looked up at the sound of Ladybug’s voice, startled. “He didn’t promise me anything! I have to stop him!”

“That’s not your job, you’ve put yourself in danger from the akuma!”

“This is what I’m supposed to be doing! I was chosen!” The girl’s voice cracked nervously, watching them from across the street. 

“This is your one chance to back down!” Ladybug took a deep breath and shook her head. “You can’t masquerade as a hero!”

“I _am_ a hero!”

The fight didn’t last long. How could it? The two longtime heroes of Paris against a girl, young and inexperienced, masquerading as one of them? It was almost too easy to catch her. Chat pinned her down and tossed the earrings to Ladybug, who threw them on the ground and crushed them under her heel. Pieces of red ceramic flashed and scattered.

It was only when the girl started screaming that it became clear something was wrong.

* * *

The sickening feeling that took up residence in Chat’s gut sparked to life as the girl started crying. His thoughts swelled to life slowly _There’s something wrong here, the akuma ought to have been in the earrings but this is wrong, something is wrong._

Ladybug frowned as he climbed to his feet, her frown and confusion evident despite the mask. “Where’s the akuma? We need to…”

The girl’s sobs escalated in volume as her transformation wore off. She crawled, shoved herself to her feet and fell again, scrabbled at Chat’s arm as he held her down. Her voice cracked, frantic. “Tikki, no, please be alright…”

His eyes went wide with horror and Ladybug looked from her to the broken ceramic. When she spotted the tiny red shape among the shards, a shriek ripped itself from her throat, a bloody, ripped sort of scream that would give him nightmares for years.

* * *

Two figures sprinted through the streets, one sobbing as she held something small to her chest, the other carrying a girl over his shoulder.

When they got there, Ladybug barely bothered with knocking. Instead, she banged on the door, jimmying the handle until it gave under her augmented strength. “Master Fu!”

She burst into his living room, where he sat in an easy chair, slippered feet propped up, book open in his lap. “What on earth…?”

“Please! She’s hurt, Tikki’s hurt, I don’t know what to do…” her voice cracked with desperation as behind her Chat carefully let the girl down from his shoulder, laying her on the sofa.

There was hardly an instant of hesitation before Master Fu sprung into action, pulling her cupped hands open to find Tikki, unconscious and barely breathing. “Follow me!”

* * *

The Master placed Tikki carefully in a shallow dish of warm water, adding who knew what to the water as he worked. He sent Chat back to the other girl with a cold compress, instructing him to stay with her until she came around.

“Is she…?”

“She’ll live, but she’s very hurt.” The Master shook his head and sighed. “I know you already. You can let your transformation down.”

Marinette obeyed, letting her suit fade. The kwami she’d thought was Tikki popped out of her earrings, buzzing and wavering in the air. “Right, alright, if you’re not Tikki, who are…?”

She shied aside as Master Fu snatched the kwami out of the air. “You!”

“I’m sorry!” the kwami shrieked.

“Siding with the akuma? I’m ashamed of you. Stay still.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” The kwami started sobbing as he worked, appearing to peel layers of skin off the creature.

Marinette averted her eyes, then closed them, unable to keep watching as he worked. When he finally made a noise of triumph, she cracked her eyes open, afraid of what she would find.

A tiny yellow kwami sat on the table, looking exhausted. Master Fu moved about with a jar that contained a pair of akuma, finally catching the third one and screwing the lid on. He plunked the jar down on the table next to the kwami and turned back to Tikki.

Marinette stared at the yellow kwami on the table, the world slowly crashing down on her as she slowly realized she’d fallen for Hawkmoth’s ploy. The akuma in the jar fluttered about, the reddish pattern of the kwami’s disguise slowly fading from one of them. She carefully picked the kwami up and held it up so she could look it in the eyes and ask, “Who are you?”

The yellow kwami looked up at her blearily as she shivered. “Name’s Metta.” Her voice was small, but not nearly as squeaky as Tikki’s. She was even smaller than Tikki, and had faint yellow and black stripes on her skin. Apparently the akuma had disguised her in more than one way.

“And you’re…?”

“An idiot,” Master Fu filled in from across the room. “Between the two of you, you’ve really done a number on Tikki and that girl.”

Marinette shuddered and looked at the akuma flitting about the jar. “Can we get rid of those?”

“Tikki’s the only one that can clean them and she’s not strong enough right now.” Master Fu said quietly. “I’ll keep them in the jar for safekeeping until Tikki is back to full health. As I said, you really did a number on her.”

“I’m sorry.” At least she had the good sense to look ashamed.

“And you,” he looked at the yellow kwami, “have acted despicably.”

Metta hung her head. “I know.”

“What were you thinking? Where have you been?”

The kwami buzzed angrily, her wings flicking and vibrating in anger. “He kept me locked up! This was the only way I could get out!”

The master stilled in his ministrations. “Who did?”

She shuddered visibly. “Hawkmoth.”

“Why did he let you go?”

“He doesn’t need me, he has Nooroo, and the…thing. The darkness.”

“The source of the akuma,” Master Fu said quietly.

“He’s strong enough without me, and up until you stripped them off, he’d been using them to make me stronger.” Metta looked at the butterflies in the jar again, shivering in Marinette’s hand. “They let me pretend to be Tikki and mimic her abilities.”

“Why?”

“To fool her.” She looked up at Marinette, whose face had been slowly shifting to horror as she spoke. ”I’m sorry, I was afraid, all I wanted was my freedom and he promised me…”

“What did he promise you?”

She was quiet in Marinette’s hand.

“Metta. Tell me.” There was no room for question in his voice.

“He said if I could help him catch Tikki and Plagg, he wouldn’t need me anymore and he’d let me go.” Her voice, normally small, was little more than a squeak.

“Why does he want Tikki and Plagg?”

“He wants to make time go back, he lost someone special to him. Nooroo told him the only one of us that could do it is Tikki, she can fix things to the way they were before. But then he said Tikki wasn’t strong enough on her own, and Plagg is…”

“He wants to use Plagg to help channel Tikki’s powers.”

“Yeah.” Metta looked appropriately ashamed. “I just wanted to leave.”

The Master sat down on the floor, stirring the bowl in front of him, carefully cleaning Tikki’s limp form. “I understand. I’m not happy about it, but I understand.”

* * *

Master Fu sent Chat home with instructions to eat and rest, and to be ready to move at any time. Reluctantly, he agreed, leaping among rooftops until he was out of sight. Marinette sat with the Master as he carefully patched Tikki up. She regained consciousness and started crying as soon as she saw Marinette, and it took hours to calm her down entirely. She drifted in and out of consciousness, but each time she woke to Marinette she was a little less frantic.

* * *

The two humans and the two kwami sat quietly, eating to help restore their strength.

“We have to end this.” Tikki’s words were quiet when she finally spoke. “But Alienne isn’t strong enough.”

"The girl?" Metta asked.

Tikki nodded. "She's young, inexperienced. She's strong, but not strong enough for this."

Master Fu watched her carefully, finally sighing and putting his bowl down. Marinette looked from him to Tikki and said, “You need to rest.”

“I can’t afford to rest anymore!” Tikki’s voice rose. “I’m not strong enough to help Alienne and you won’t have me!”

Marinette sat down heavily looking defeated. Master Fu looked between the two of them. “Neither of you is strong enough right now. You need to rest.”

“What if I helped them?” Metta’s voice was timid, but she looked at the other three as if looking for approval.

“Haven’t you done enough already?” Marinette’s voice cracked.

“No, she’s right.” Master Fu looked at her solemnly. “You’ll stand a better chance if you’ve got more support.”

“So what, we just…let the akuma go and hope that this time I can track them back to Hawkmoth?”

“Right, but you don’t have to track the akuma back to him.”

Marinette laughed bitterly. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

“I mean…I know where he is.”

They all stared at the yellow kwami.

Marinette was the one to finally break the silence. “…you what?”

* * *

Two days later, Ladybug stood on the rooftops, reflecting.

She could feel the strength of both the kwami running under her skin, bound to new Miraculous’ at Master Fu’s hand. Metta had few options until they could recover her old Miraculous from Hawkmoth, and Tikki was weak without one. The girl, Alienne, was home and safe. Chat would come when she called. Years of fighting had come down to this.

She was tired of fighting.

So tired.

She let Metta lead her, following the draw in her chest across rooftops and over alleyways to the far side of the city, a block of largely abandoned buildings, an odd variety of commercial space and old houses. She couldn’t hear the kwami, but a gut feeling told her that this was right.

She turned her tracker on and sent her location to Chat, then settled in to wait.

* * *

“Milady?”

She stood and turned to him, nodding once, silently. He didn’t like the look in her eyes, a dark, fearful look that was little like the Ladybug he’d grown to love.

“What’s the plan?”

Ladybug let out a breath. “We go in there, we find him, we stop him. We don’t kill him, not unless we have to.”

Chat stretched and grinned. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Chat,” her voice was solemn. “There’s something you should know. The thing that’s been making the akuma…Master Fu says it’s not actually him. Hawkmoth is just a host for it, the thing that’s hijacked him.”

“What?”

“He used to be one of the Miraculous holders, like you and me.” She took a deep breath. “Listen. There’s a lot Metta told us, but here’s what you need to know…”

* * *

They slipped into the building through a large window at the end of a hall. A narrow, silent hallway led the way forward, doors locked on each side entirely unpromising. Ladybug beckoned him forward, as though she knew exactly where she was going.

In the end, she led them exactly where they needed to go. The double doors at the end of the hall creaked open, announcing their presence to anyone within. The room was large, near circular, with a single massive round window that the dying sun shone through. 

There was a large, plain desk in the darkness on one side of the room. A worklamp was adjusted low, and they could see little more than the hands of the person working at the desk and the array of papers and folders, spread across the surface. His face remained in the darkness, although his hands fell still at the sight of them.

A simple, quiet statement came from the dark. “You.”

“It’s over Hawkmoth.”

“No.” The desk lamp clicked off, leaving the far side of the room in pitch blackness. Then, a voice.“Nooroo, transform me.” There was a flash of deep purple in the darkness, a click of shoes striding forward into the light.

Hawkmoth stepped into the light, head held high, shoulders squared, a faint smile dancing about his mouth. “So, you’ve finally come to confront me yourselves.”

Chat took a deep breath. “Enough is enough.”

The visible through the gap in his mask gave them a wry grin. "I'd agree. Hand over your Miraculous."

Ladybug shook her head. "That's not why we're here, and you know it. You've threatened the people I care about."

“What, and you think you'll be able to stop me because of that? Because love conquers all? You believe that?” He snorted. “You’re little more than a child, what could you possibly know about love?”

“I love my family, I love my friends.”

“What about him, hm? You love your partner?”

She gritted her teeth. “Leave him out of this.”

“No!” he snapped. “You don’t get to leave him out of this. He’s as deep in as you are. You don’t understand, you’re little more than a child! You think all of this, the Miraculous, the magic…you don’t take it seriously!”

“What do you think this is, then?” Chat was indignant.

“I used to be like you.” He looked between the two of them. “Idealistic. I thought everything was fine, that nothing could ever possibly go wrong. I was on top of the world, even fell in love with my partner, which really, the two of you don’t look too far off,” he snarled. “And she was taken away from me.”

“We know.” Marinette looked him square in the eyes. “Metta told us.”

Hawkmoth laughed, not entirely sinister. “Oh good, you've heard from Metta. I assume she somehow found a way to break free of the akuma, then. Little traitor." He sighed, returning to his previous point. "At least you understand. She’s dead. I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes you do.”

“No, I really don’t.” His words turned cold, his mouth turned down. “You know how this goes. Give me them.”

“You can’t have our Miraculouses.”

The double doors slammed behind them. “Forgive the theatrics, but this room isn't an easy one to escape. Fortunately, now that you’re here, I don’t need your Miraculouses. If they’re destroyed, your kwami will still be trapped here.” He smiled, the smug look of a man that had finally checkmated his foes. “It’s not too late to back down, you know. Give me the Miraculouses and I’ll let you go, no harm done.”

Chat snarled and stepped in front of her. There was an uneasy pit of nervousness growing in his gut. “We won’t!”

“No? What about you, girl, your family could be in danger. I could have them killed at a moment’s notice.” His lips pursed irritably. “I’m not above such measures, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

Something in her snapped and she shouted, “It really has been you, this whole time!” 

Chat's eyes widened; he had never seen her so mad. As if the bastard wasn’t aggravating enough, he laughed. “Of course it has. Did you like the Ladybug roses? I thought it was a rather nice touch.”

She stilled, trying to figure out what he was talking about, then her eyes widened in realization. “You…!”

“Let it not be said that I’m a man without taste.” He moved forward from the shadows. Something moved behind him, a wisp of movement, a flutter of wings.

Chat had gone still, frowning. “Ladybug, there’s something wrong.”

She was barely listening. “He’s here and he’s as bad as we thought. We take him down.”

Baton in hand, Chat reluctantly nodded. “Fine. But remember I said that if this all goes wrong. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Hawkmoth shrugged, raising a hand. The shadows behind him seemed to seep forward, pooling at his feet. The flutter of wings rose into a flurry, then a snowstorm. They stared in horror as the shadows seemed to seep into the butterflies, staining them all like flittering pieces of a void, flooding the room.

“Chat, run!”

“GIVE ME TIKKI!” Hawkmoth’s voice rose again in the middle of the storm, echoing through the rafters, scratching at the inside of her skull.

“No!” her scream was lost as the darkness caught her, sweeping her away from Chat like a riptide and threatening to suffocate her. They scratched at her, the edges of their wings like razors, slicing through her suit in a thousand different places.

“Let her go!” As Ladybug struggled with the akuma, Chat grappled with Hawkmoth. It was a terrifying struggle, a physical fight with the man that had caused so much damage, so much hurt. 

Through the whirl of darkness, Ladybug caught occasional glimpses of the fight. Chat and Hawkmoth were of a similar height and build, although it seemed Chat might have the advantage of more muscle mass. Both fought dirty, moving like polar opposites, attracting and repelling like magnets that bounced off of each other.

The akuma obscured her vision again, drowned her like razors in her mouth, her throat. She was choking on blood, and she couldn’t even breathe to try and summon her Lucky Charm.

Another flash of the fight visible through the darkness. Chat nailed him in the side with his pole before Hawkmoth dropped low and hooked his ankle, sending his baton halfway across the room. He stomped his foot down on Chat’s wrist, eliciting a shout and a sickening ‘crack’ of bone. 

Even so, Chat struggled, trying to kick the other man away despite the way it shifted his broken arm. Hawkmoth leaned forward. “Give me your Miraculous.”

“No!”

Hawkmoth snarled and stood up, placing more pressure on Chat’s arm. “Fine. Then I’ll take it.”

“I won’t let you!” the words cracked as he said them. 

Hawkmoth looked down on him, carefully impassive attitude fraying. “My apologies. This will be easiest for both of us, then.” A single vicious kick to Chat’s jaw silenced him, and Hawkmoth stooped, pulling the ring from his hand. The transformation dissipated like smoke, dissolving into nothing.

For all his cruelty, Hawkmoth faltered at the sight of Adrien Agreste.

Ladybug screamed, choking on her own blood.

* * *

The akuma left her like the tide going out, rushing back to Hawkmoth, swarming around him, pulsing like a wave made of living things.

She dropped to the floor, choking on blood, seeing it well up from hundreds of tiny gashes in her suit. Strength welling up, an adrenaline rush that drove her from the ground.

Everything seemed to be picked out in hyperrealistic detail.

Hawkmoth, his eyes widening in shock behind his mask, going to one knee, carefully brushing a sweep of blonde hair out of Adrien’s face with one hand. His mouth moving, forming a name.

A buzzing, like static in her ears. Plagg, shouting. Screaming for Adrien, shouting abuse at Hawkmoth, shouting because he couldn’t do anything else.

Running, footfalls on the tiled floor, breaking through the wave of akuma that surrounded them. Flinging herself at Adrien, trying to protect him with her own body.

“How…how can it be Adrien?” The words quiet, disbelieving, behind her.

Sobs, clenching her chest and ripping out of her as she desperately searched for a pulse. Relief and fatigue when she found one.

Hawkmoth’s words, increasingly desperate. “Did you know? Did you know it was him?!”

The akuma, condensing, thickening the air with wingbeats that threatened to suffocate them all. Closing in on Hawkmoth, even as the man struggled and ripped his mask off.

The horrified, panic-stricken face of Gabriel Agreste.

“No. No, you have to get him out of here-”

“What do you expect me to do?” She looked at him, furious but so, so tired of fighting. “Just walk out?”

He nodded, fast and frantic. “I can’t control this. It’s fighting back.”

“Nooroo?”

“The akuma!” He shuddered. His suit seemed to waver, bleeding back and forth between dark purple and a pale lavender color, as though something was fighting with him, something he couldn’t control. “I don’t have control of it, I don’t know what it is. I never knew what it was. It promised me…”

As he spoke, it all became clear. Adrien’s mother. The akuma had promised to revert things far enough to bring her back, if only his father would gather the kwami for it.  
He shuddered again, breathing thinly through his nose. “Take him and leave.”

“Let me help you stop this thing.”

“It can’t be stopped.” His hand shook. “It’s had me in its grasp for years.”

“Why did you let it in in the first place?” Her voice bubbled, the blood in her mouth sticking.

“It said it would help me get Nadine back.” His eyes welled as he looked down at his son, out cold in her arms. “It said that if I could get time to revert, none of the people that were hurt in the attacks would ever have been hurt in the first place.”

Her words were quiet. “Power doesn’t come without consequence.”

“I know.”

“Then stop it!”

The darkness bubbled up, flooding part of his face. He cringed back, then grimaced. “I can’t!” A flood of the bubbling darkness caught him, fizzing and overflowing his eyes, dragging him to the floor.

The akuma knew it could no longer control him through manipulation.

It appeared force was its only remaining option.

* * *

Ladybug dragged Adrien away as fast as she could, trying to hide him from the thing in the middle of the room, the shell that had once been Gabriel Agreste, hijacked by something older and infinitely more powerful.

He came at her, eyes flooded black and purple, something out of a nightmare. Though she hated to do it, she left Adrien’s side, forcing herself up through gasped lungfuls of blood-flecked air.

Without her yoyo, stolen minutes before by the akuma, she had no weapon. Hawkmoth seemed unarmed as well, his cane gone missing somewhere in the shadows of the room. Instead, he grabbed her bodily, intent on beating her into submission.

The cold, empty space in his eyes was like looking into the void, an unending pit of nothing. Adrien’s father was no longer there, there was nothing but darkness and hate in his eyes.

Tears dripped down her face, hot splotches down her cheeks as she grappled with him. He was taller, stronger, and backed by something from the dawn of time, a thing that had survived millennia. She desperately tried to remind herself that Tikki and Metta were just as old, just as strong. That they were bracing her against this thing with all of their strength.

He abruptly changed the angle, using the force she applied against her to send her flying. As she fell, he caught her arm and redirected her, sending her flying back-first into the massive window, shattering the panes and cracking the stays. Her vision spun and glass hell, raining down around her in massive splinters as she lay on the floor, trying to push herself up. As she regained her feet there was a scrape of glass on the rough floor and a weird sound, as though something that didn’t know how to laugh was trying to do so. She looked up to find the hijacked husk of Gabriel Agreste bearing down on her, rushing at her with a knife-sized shard of glass aimed at her chest.

She did the only thing she could and used his momentum against him the way he had only moments before, feeling the shard catch in her side and skitter off the metal plate that had been used to repair her ribs months before.

Momentum carried him into the window, slamming into the already-cracked stays, which gave out. 

He disappeared from view.

In a daze, she looked out the window, spotting him on the ground below. The darkness and the butterflies obscured him almost entirely as they streamed out of him in a swarm, swooping up toward the sky like a microburst of dark clouds.

Without a proper host, the akuma couldn’t stay. Whatever it was, it had gone, to take cover in the darkness or to find another host, it was impossible to guess.

Ladybug’s knees gave out.

* * *

When she finally found the strength to get up again, it was Marinette who did so, not Ladybug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an end.
> 
> There will be two more chapters. Both are epilogues. Each will be another ending.
> 
> Not all ends are happy ends.
> 
> But there will be a happy end to this story. I promise.


	9. (épilogue 1)

He came around, noting little at first but the staggering pain in his jaw, like a railroad spike driven through half his face.

Something small was thumping the other side of his face. “Wake up! Come on asshole, this is important, you need to wake up. Waaaaake uuuuupppp.” Something grabbed his eyelid and pried his right eye open. “Get up!”

He opened his eyes blearily and found himself facing the yellow kwami. “What?!”

“You need to talk to her!”

“What? Who?”

“Ladybug!”

He sat up, looking around and spotting her silhouetted in the shattered window. “Marinette?”

“How could you not know?” Her voice cracked as she turned.

“What?”

“How could you not know?!?” she shouted, her voice rising hysterically.

“Not know what?”

She pointed out the window with a shaking hand. He moved, fighting back tears at the pain that stabbed through his arm as he made his way over to her and looked out the window. “Your…”

The world seemed to disappear from under him.

* * *

At the hospital, what felt like hours later, he sat waiting for surgery, for pins to be placed in his arm. Nathalie appeared and disappeared, trying to keep tabs on both Adrien and Gabriel’s care. Yet again she’d shown herself to be more than competent, but Adrien wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge it.

Several things kept spinning through his head.

First, his father was Hawkmoth. Had been Hawkmoth. Was…still Hawkmoth? Whichever it was, he was comatose and in critical condition.

Second, Nathalie knew he was Chat Noir.

Third, Plagg was missing.

Fourth, Marinette hadn’t shown her face since the ambulance doors had closed on her.

He settled in his chair, resigning himself to a lack of answers.

* * *

Two weeks passed. Gabriel Agreste slipped in and out of a coma. Demistrokes on top of the head injury, they said. He’d be lucky to survive, they said. Nathalie took over the day-to-day workings of the company, but gently reminded Adrien that in the event of his father’s death, he would technically be poised to take over the position.

Altogether, it was a heavy burden. Adrien walked around like the world weighed on his shoulders, which, in a way, it did. His father had spent the last few years trying to kill him. He wasn’t even twenty, and his future depended on the thin thread that held his father to the living world. Plagg, his only constant companion for the past five years, had gone back to Master Fu to recover. He'd found out from a text message from a blocked number, unsurprisingly.

Nathalie did what she could to ease the burden. She knew who he was, and helped him cover his tracks as the press commenced with a hunt for Ladybug and Chat Noir.

* * *

A week after he left the hospital, Nathalie delivered a note to him, short and handwritten on paper that had been blotted at least once.

_Adrien,_

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it ended like this. There aren’t words for it, and I’m not going to waste words trying to tell you otherwise._

_My parents are moving, simply for their safety, and I’m leaving for the States in about a week. I doubt we’ll see each other much, but I hope you understand that it was an accident, and that I’d fix things if I could. Unfortunately, Tikki’s abilities don’t work like that, as I’m sure you understand by now. There are some things that simply can’t be fixed._

_Your father loved you dearly. The akuma wasn’t kind to him; neither was life. I hope he eventually finds some peace._

_Stay safe._

_x_

_M_

* * *

And that was it.

He didn’t see her for four years.

* * *

Life went on. His father stabilized, although he would never quite be back to normal. His mind wasn’t all there, something the doctors blamed on the head injury and the following demistrokes. 

Gabriel Agreste passed his days in the garden, under the watchful eye of a live-in nurse, watching the butterflies that flitted from flower to flower. He seemed at peace, although he was entirely unlike the man that had raised him. Sometimes he was more conscious than others, and it was possible to hold a conversation with him. Other times, it was as though there was nothing left but an empty shell. Adrien struggled with the reality of it, that his father had spent the better part of the last four years trying to hurt and, in some cases, kill him.

The kwami returned to Master Fu’s care. Plagg and Nooroo were horribly weak, but they, along with Tikki, recovered under the Master’s supervision. A couple months later, when Adrien went by his place to visit, he and the kwami were gone, as though they’d never been there.

Adrien handed the day-to-day operations of the company over to Nathalie, who had proven herself time and time again. He backed her as COO, and although he continued as a majority shareholder, in all reality he wanted nothing to do with the empire his father had built. Instead, he continued with school and went into Physics and Education.

He kept up with Nino and Alya, to some extent, meeting up maybe once every few months. Then it became twice a year, then once a year.

Then came the text, the picture of the ring and two absolutely thrilled grins.

* * *

The invitation had been pinned to his bulletin board for months, and the save the date even longer.

Yet somehow, when Adrien arrived at rehersals in a slightly-late flurry, it all became real.

Nino and Alya, getting married.

It hit him like a train.

* * *

They made it through the rehersals, with one person conspicuously absent. He wasn’t let down, he told himself, just concerned. 

Alya laughed about it a bit when he got the chance to ask. “Marinette is working on a couple of last-minute fitting things, she took the measurements and kicked me out for rehersals.”

Adrien looked a bit panicked. “Is everything alright?”

She laughed, good humored as ever. “Nothing she can’t fix, fortunately. That wedding weight loss plan worked a bit better than expected.”

Nino made a face. “I told you, you didn’t need to lose weight. You were perfect before.”

Alya sighed. “I know you did. I ran through all the rehearsal stuff with her, but I feel bad that she’s missing it in order to re-fit the dress. We’ve been talking about it for months, I’m sure everything will be alright. How about dinner?”

* * *

It was late that night, hours after the group meal, that the quiet knock on his door came. He looked up at the sound. Who would be knocking at this time of night? He climbed up, putting his tablet down and peering through the peephole.

His chest seemed to seize up.

Marinette.

He scrambled for a sweater, grateful he’d thrown sweatpants on and hadn’t sat around working on homework in his boxers. Anxiety seemed to grip him. It might have been easier to pretend he wasn’t there, but what was the sense in that? He opened the door and she looked up at him, and it was like the world stopped moving, just for a second.

“Uh, hi.” Her voice was quiet, and he stood there, trying to memorize the moment. Her hair was different, her face was a bit longer, but her eyes were exactly the same. She’d bundled up in a too-big sweater.

“Hi!” It came out a bit breathless, and he ran his hand back through his hair, desperately trying to tame it somewhat. “How are you?”

“Not bad, but…I swear I’m not being creepy, Alya just gave me your room number as she was leaving.” She smiled, and the tension between them loosened.

“Did you get the dress finished?”

“Yeah, thank goodness. But I missed dinner trying to get it done and I was going to try to go hunt down something to eat. But…uh…”

“Want someone to go with?” He perked up.

She reddened a bit. “Well, I don’t know anyone else in the wedding party particularly well, so I was wondering if you might want to go with me. I don’t even care where, I just…”

“Sure, just give me a minute to find something to wear?” He made a vague motion at his sweats and was grateful again that he hadn’t been sitting around in his boxers. Marinette smiled, and he felt like his heart sped up to a painful degree. “You can come in if you want?”

She blinked, and for a moment he thought she would stand in the hall and avoid him. Still, she came in and perched cross-legged in the corner chair as he rifled through his suitcase. His computer was still playing his preferred study music at low volume, and by the time he’d found and ducked into the bathroom to change, she was typing something out on her phone. He grabbed his jacket off the other chair and slung it on. “Ready?”

“Mmhmm, give me ten seconds to finish this email.” She hurriedly typed something out as he grabbed keys and pulled his shoes on, and then they were off, down the hall, through the lobby, and gone.

It had been years and somehow, it was still so easy to talk to her, almost like they hadn’t stopped all communication. Conversation fell to what they’d been up to over the years, never reaching the uncomfortable circumstances they’d parted on. They wandered into a small place that offered late-night sandwiches and ordered some to go, wandering down the street savoring bites of bread-y deliciousness. 

By the time they’d walked all the way back, the sandwiches were gone and comfortable banter was back full-force. They made it up to her room and Marinette unlocked her door as she giggled at a terrible pun, then glanced at her watch. She sighed. “I should go. Early day tomorrow, you know?”

“Wait, but the wedding isn’t til 3?”

She giggled. “I’m heading over to help Alya with whatever she needs at about 7. She should be fine, but I need to be there in case she needs anything.”

He stared for a moment, then snorted. “Look, we both know I’ve seen some crazy modeling gigs, but that’s…” he stopped at the look on her face, “that’s…dedication.”

“Nice save.”

He sighed. “Thanks.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Make sure Nino keeps his head screwed on straight.” The door clicked shut behind her and he stood there a moment, unsure what he should have said instead, feeling more confused than ever.

* * *

Adrien knew the fashion industry, and Marinette had worked a miracle with the dress. It fit Alya perfectly, nipping in at her natural waist and falling gracefully to the floor. The train swept gracefully down the stairs behind her, shimmering like the sun on water.

Nino gaped and looked like he might fall over.

“Good, don’t you think?” He glanced to his side, trying to keep his phone trained on Nino as he clicked pictures. He caught sight of Marinette standing there with a pleased smile out of the corner of his eye.

“You fixed it last night?”

“Yeah, I had to take it in a couple inches. Strapless dresses are the devil if they’re not properly fitted. Took all day.”

He looked back at Alya, who was beaming. Nino looked up at her as she walked down the stairs like she was the only other person in the world. And Alya…he’d never seen such a genuinely happy smile on her face. She came down the stairs smoothly, composed, keeping her emotions in check.

And the moment she stepped onto the tile at the bottom, Nino had her in a tight hug and a delighted laugh burst from her. The two of them couldn’t stay serious if they tried. Adrien turned, saying, “It looks great...” and his voice caught in his throat.

She looked like someone from one of the many photoshoots he’d been to, popping out against the world around them with hyperrealistic detail. Her hair was curled and fell over her shoulder, nearly falling to the edge of her dress. 

He took a deep breath when she looked away, dying a bit inside. Oh no. Oh no, oh no.

If she’d looked good the night before, now she looked impossible. He had no idea how he was going to make it through the evening.

* * *

About three hours later he held out his hand to her as she turned to him after flashing a brilliant smile at Alya. She took the invitation and put her hand on his elbow, letting him lead her down the aisle away from the dais. The wedding had gone flawlessly, and Marinette practically glowed with happiness for Alya.

For a moment, he was swept away by the idea of it all. Marinette, sweet, beautiful, ray of sunlight Marinette, on his arm, walking away from a priest with the sunset beaming through the long windows on their right, occasionally catching her, lighting her skin up like golden sunlight and her eyes the color of the sky as she smiled at the crowd. The sunlight, just for a moment, washed out her dress so bright it was white and everything about it hit him like a kick in the gut.

He wasn’t over this girl. He’d never be over this girl.

She broke from his arm in the lobby, going to help the other bridesmaids with Alya’s dress and to hand out confetti to throw.

Adrien ducked into the corner, desperately trying to breathe. He was left wrestling with the horrible ache in his chest, an awful bone-deep sort of pain that felt like he’d been struck through. Deep breaths. He just had to get through the reception.

* * *

The reception was every bit as meticulously planned as the wedding had been, from the catered plates to the cake, meticulously designed by the Dupain-Chengs, covered in a waterfall of white and peach flowers.

The meal was delicious, but nerves seemed to settle in his stomach at the thought of having to give a speech. Before long, he and Marinette were both pushed to their feet and ushered forward. She gave him a sheepish grin and took the mic.

“I know a lot of you don’t know me, and in part it’s because I’ve been living in New York the past few years. But Alya and I go waaaay back, so when she asked me to be her maid of honor, I was excited and delighted and…all kinds of things. And then I realized I’d have to give a speech. So while I could tell you how lovely and perfect for each other these two are until the sun goes down, you’re all here so you already know that. So I decided to go for a story instead.”

Marinette flexed her hands, pretending to stretch a bit, then leaned on the table toward Alya. “I’m going to tell you about the powdered sugar incident.”

Whatever reaction Adrien had expected, it certainly wasn’t Alya’s gasp. “Oooh, I’m going to get you back someday, girl.”

“You’ll have to find someone to marry me off to, first.” Marinette’s eyes were mischief and laughter and not a minute later she had the entire room in stitches.

* * *

“So while Alya is the most loyal, loving person I know who’s kept this a secret for nearly 12 years, now you all know never to make her mad. Because, as we found out, revenge is sweet.”

He stared at her. A pun. She brought the entire place down laughing and crying and then threw in a pun for good measure. This woman was beyond him.

She handed him the microphone and he took a deep breath as he looked around. So many people. Well, if there were ever a time to be stupidly brave, it was now. “Whew, I have to follow that up…give me a second guys, I’m not so hot at this. Nino and I got in trouble, but not quite the same kind of trouble, so it’s going to be hard to follow on her heels.”  
He glanced down at the index card he’d written. He knew it by heart, there was no point in keeping it out. So he stuffed it in his pocket and let his memory take it from there.

* * *

After the speech, he threw back a round of shots with the group of them, then sat nursing a drink from the bar. Music started up, first dances, the usual pattern that weddings seemed to follow. 

Marinette hovered about the table at the head of the room, talking and laughing with people. She flitted about, a social butterfly after a couple drinks. People didn’t know her very well, but they loved her from the start, and she could hold a conversation with anyone.

He’d found a seat in a back corner of the room, trying to relax and clear his mind until he could handle being near her again without feeling like a fool. Someone sat down next to him and he looked up. Nathanael, still every bit as red-headed as he’d been in school, looked at him curiously. “You alright?”

“I…ah…just struggling with some stuff.”

Nathanael looked at him, eyes piercing and a little bit too knowing. “Do you love one of them?”

He sat straight up. “Wait, what?”

“Do you love her? Or him, for that matter?”

“I…no, not like I think you mean. They’re some of my best friends.” He blinked and stopped. “Where did that even come from?”

“I don’t know, you’ve had this look on your face like you’re pining after someone all day, and I thought I’d…ask. Just in case you needed someone to talk to.”

Adrien could feel a blush heating his face. “Noooo, of course not. Definitely not one of them.”

The other man sat there for a beat, then an eyebrow rose. “Someone else?”

The drinks had to be catching up with him, because he’d have sworn Nathanael smirked. Instead of confirming his suspicions, Adrien looked at him suspiciously. “And why do you think that?”

Enigmatic as ever, Nathanael shrugged. “You’ve got a good poker face, but not when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. Yet.”

“Well then, you should go get drunk with her.” Nathanael made a motion toward Marinette, standing halfway across the room holding a glass of wine and smiling happily as she spoke with Alya’s mother.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“No way.”

Nathanael looked at him owlishly. “Why?”

“Are you kidding? She’s…” the words seemed to stick in his throat.

“Alya was right, you’re hopeless.” Nathanael sighed and took his own drink, weaving between tables before disappearing.

Adrien was left staring after him, his brain finally filling in …Alya?

* * *

The reception quickly evolved into a party. Lights changed, music blared, and people took to the dance floor.

He could see her through the blur. She’d been his partner for years, and somewhere in there he still loved her for it. She’d been his best friend, one of the most important people in his life.

Yet here he was, still pining while she was in the same room.

He spotted Nathanael dancing with Marinette from across the room, and his heart gave an uncomfortable lurch. Oh. That was why he’d asked. It all made sense now. 

He stood up and made his way to the bar again. Another drink was in order.

Sitting down at the table again didn’t change anything. She was still on the floor dancing with Nathanael, and a man Adrien didn’t recognize. And Alya, with her younger sister.  
God, she was gorgeous. And witty. And funny, and brilliant, and and and…and there was the minor little detail of her having been Ladybug. And he’d been Chat Noir. And good lord what he would have given for her to have been crowded as close to him as she was to Alya. Sitting at the table watching them all together was excruciating.

He dragged his thoughts back. Not a path he should be going down. They were friends, and he wasn’t willing to ruin it.

Nino called him over, and he made his way back to the table at the head of the room. It was close to the dance floor and it was nearly impossible to keep his eyes off of it. He talked with Nino and a couple of old friends, and occasionally he glanced toward the floor, trying to stay discrete.

There was a fine line between ‘buzzed’ and ‘drunk’ and he was toeing it with the same kind of precision a ballerina might have. He’d been less careful walking rooftops back when they’d…

He stopped and dragged himself back from the edge. No. Dangerous territory, back away carefully.

That had been then, this was now. Marinette was on the dance floor with Alya, destroying the people around them to the beat of a popular song. Sure, other people knew it, but they were both wide open and moving like the beat was in their blood.

An entire pack of them came toward the table with Alya as the song switched to something more like a slow dance. Alya grabbed Nino and suddenly half of the conversation was gone, and he was alone in a crowded room.

That is, until a giggle from behind him gave him a moment’s notice that the evening was about to change significantly.

Adrien found himself with a lapful of laughing girl, whose glass had been whirled out of her hand and put on the table to keep her from spilling it as he dropped her in Adrien’s lap. Nathanael glanced down at him and…winked. The bastard winked. “Thank me later.”

“Yeah, sure.” Marinette looked after him and snorted. “I can find my own dates, thank you very much!”

Nathanael turned around and shrugged exaggeratedly, feigning innocence. 

She sat in his lap, humming pleasantly and making her way through the drink. The quiet between them was companionable again, and he found that he didn’t feel the need to speak. He had the nearly overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around her and pull her to him, but he reined it in.

He cleared his throat. “Enjoying yourself?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I have to be up early again. But I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Eventually, the slow dance was over and Alya was there, dragging her back to the dance floor. But this time, Marinette was turning to him, reaching for his hand, dragging him along with a laugh. The world shifted, just a little bit.

* * *

A quarter of an hour later, someone had made their way over with another tray of shots.

The four of them toasted the future and tossed back a round. Adrien blinked and felt stupidly happy, surrounded by his closest friends and drinking like it was a normal thing.  
Alya was starting to look a bit rough around the edges, as was Nino. He was fine. Totally fine. Basically totally fine. Marinette’s cheeks were redder than usual, but in general she seemed no worse for wear. And for him, he was fine. They hit the dance floor again, and he admitted to himself that he was only mostly fine. He wasn’t sober, but he certainly wasn’t drunk. He was still sober-ish, the room wasn’t spinning yet. Marinette’s hips though…

He dragged his mind back. No. Hell no. She’d been his partner, she’d been one of his best friends for years.

And yet when she grabbed his hand to pull him in for a dance, he desperately wanted to ruin their friendship. Would he ruin it if he…?

Oh no. Oh no oh no, he was not ready for this. Marinette was lost in the music. If she’d looked like some kind of ethereal vision before, now she looked painfully real, like a fallen angel that was painfully, horribly within his reach.

And his brain caught up. She’d turned, and was looking at him with concern. “You alright?” Her eyes were huge, blue as her dress but darker and her makeup had smudged at some point. She was human, so impossibly human, and almost within reach and...this had to stop.

He forced a smile. “I’m…yeah.”

She stopped, looking at him carefully. “Need some air?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

* * *

She’d taken his hand, weaving through the crowd with ease. Outside he gulped air, trying to calm his racing heart. The porch was large and wide, lit up with small lanterns and scattered with a handful of older couples. The music inside had drawn most of the people their own age in, and although there was a fair amount of conversation outside, it was much more relaxed.

They’d only been out there a few minutes, chatting amicably, before an older couple approached and the man asked,“So how long have you two been together?”

Adrien’s jaw dropped. Marinette giggled nervously and said, “Oh, we’re not together. We’ve been friends for years though.”

The woman blinked owlishly and adjusted her glasses. “Really? I’d have thought you were, you’re so cute together.”

“We’re more of a…duo. Not really in a relationship, but I’d trust him with my life.” Her words were so sincere his heart seemed to stutter. He could feel his face burning, this couldn’t be happening. Marinette seemed to have taken it in stride, but his face was on fire, there was no possible way she couldn’t see how red he was.

The woman looked at them and frowned. “This isn’t one of those newfangled ‘friends with benefits’ things I’ve heard about, is it?”

“What? No!” Marinette turned to him, her eyes huge for a moment before she dissolved into laughter. Somehow, it diffused the entire situation. Her laugh was huge, her smile so much larger than it had ever been around him alone. Definitely buzzed.

He took a moment to evaluate his own state. Buzzed, but not drunk. Still safe. In the back of his mind, he thought that perhaps it was a good thing. He’d never done anything genuinely stupid around her, never made a move he would regret in the morning. Since the events four years ago, she’d disappeared, and he had moved on. He’d had to move on, he couldn’t have stayed sane if he hadn’t.

…although he was having serious doubts about the whole ‘moving on’ thing.

* * *

They went back in, falling back into the pattern of things. Alya and Nino eventually gave hugs all around and left, leaving them to their own devices. Music eventually started to slow down, as did the drinks. 

Dinner seemed to have been hours ago. He glanced at his watch. Right. It had been hours ago. He glanced at her and said, “I’m hungry. Want to go rustle something up with me?”

“Oooh yes, me too. Something that tastes like something, if I have to eat something that tastes like chalk I’ll cry.”

“What did you have in mind?”

She looked up at him and smiled, and if he’d been struck by lightning and died then and there, he’d have been alright with it. “You like thai?”

* * *

They sat in his room, eating carry-out thai at 3 in the morning with a steady buzz humming in the back of their minds. The banter bounced back and forth like they’d never parted. Adrien fumbled with his chopsticks, desperately hoping she hadn’t noticed, but her giggle said she had.

“I’m not great with…” he made a vague gesture, accidentally tossing a sticky rice noodle in her direction. She went from a giggle to a full-blown, open laugh. It was the same joyful noise she’d made earlier, but now he was certain it was directed at him and it was world-shattering.

If his face could have cracked in half with the force of his smile, it would have. 

“I’ve missed you, you know.” The words never left his lips. He bit down on them, biting his lower lip and hoping she didn’t notice. Instead, he went with a safer topic. “You think Nino and Alya are alright?”

She snorted. “Oh please, they’ve been getting busy for ages. They’re fine.”

“I mean yeah, but…”

“They’ll be alright. I know Alya knows what she wants, she’s a big kid. And Nino wears his heart on his sleeve, and she’s caught it. It’ll be fine, they’ll work things out.” She held out a bite. “You got the yellow curry, right? Want some of mine?”

“Sure?”

She fed him a bite, something soaked in a spicy green curry. She smiled and scooped up another bite for herself, feeding it between perfect lips with the same painful delicacy she’d passed a bite to him.

He looked at her and blinked. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. There was no line in his mind, even though there always was. Always had been. Something. He’d always thought that he’d have restraint, if she’d ever been around him like this but it was horrendously hard…horrendously difficult…to stay in the usual control he had. It wasn’t that he couldn’t control himself, but the urge to lean forward and kiss her was slowly killing him. 

Her lipstick had worn off at some point during the night, or she’d wiped it off. Actually, all of her makeup had disappeared. Was she this pretty without makeup? Shit. The sweats she’d grabbed fit her as well as the dress and his mind very nearly went off on a tangent of how she’d look without them.

He blearily dragged himself back onto a straight line of thought.

* * *

They parted incredibly late, staying up most of the night talking. When Marinette finally climbed to her feet and made for the door, she seemed almost reluctant to go. He watched her, trying to breathe. “Marinette?”

She looked up. “Hm?”

“I thought you should know…” She watched him carefully and he nearly lost his nerve. “My father, he’s not great but he’s still alive. And…and some days he’s better than others, I can sit down and talk with him.” He took a deep breath, digging deep and trying to make sure she understood. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…thank you. I know it was awful, but you did what you had to do.”

He wasn’t quite prepared for the sympathetic smile she gave him. “I’m sorry it ended like that.”

“It’s alright.” He took another breath. “It was good to see you again.”

“It was good to see you again, too.” She smiled, her cheeks rosy. “Drink some more water before you sleep, you’ll have a horrible hangover.”

Adrien found himself grinning. “You too, my lady.”

She slipped out and closed the door behind her. There was only a moment of hesitation before Adrien flopped on the bed and went to sleep, his head spinning with thoughts of the evening.

* * *

When he woke, the hangover wasn’t actually all that bad, so Adrien showered, brushed his teeth, and took a car to Nino’s for the brunch they’d planned for the wedding party. Nino’s brother made a mean breakfast, eggs and meats and pastries like the group couldn’t believe. He’d called it a ‘hangover recovery brunch’, and it seemed pretty accurate. Some of the guests were worse than others, picking at bacon and eggs.

After it became clear that Marinette was absent, Adrien sat down to talk with Alya. When Marinette came up, he asked after her, thinking that maybe she was just particularly susceptible to hangovers.

Alya looked stricken. “Wait, didn’t she tell you? She had a flight out first thing this morning at like 6, she’s headed back to New York.”

His chest seemed to be full of lead. Suddenly it was too hard to breathe, the room was too claustrophobic. He felt like he’d been kicked in the chest, he had to move.

He found himself sitting outside on the stoop, the cool bite of the morning air pulling him back to reality. He put his elbows on his knees and put his head on his arms, taking deep breaths to try to quell the painful surge of emotions that seemed to crush his lungs.

“Dude, what’s going on? Is your hangover that bad?”

When he finally managed to open his eyes and look up at Nino, Adrien felt the blood rushing to his face. “Yeah. Hangover. That’s it.”

Of course, that didn’t fly. Nino knew him better than that, and sat down next to him, back against the wall. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“I thought you were going to lose it for a second there, that’s more than ‘nothing’. You were fine until…” Nino’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

Adrien’s stomach twisted anxiously. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“You like Marinette.”

“No I don’t!”

“I call bullshit.” Nino stared at him. “Come on, I know when you’re lying.”

“I don’t like her like that, I haven’t seen her in years.”

“How long’s it been? Alya about fell over when she said she could make it in for the entire week, she hadn’t seen her since the first fitting, and before that it had been nearly 8 months.”

“Since my father’s accident.”

Nino gaped. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You two were so close, what happened?"

"Things fell apart."

Nino seemed to understand. He went inside, grabbed another two full plates of food, and put one in Adrien's hands. They ate in silence.


	10. Epilogue 2

(EIGHT YEARS LATER)

 

It was a day that ought to have been like any other.

Get up. Shower. Dress. Breakfast and coffee. Head to work.

Work was a small school for gifted teens where he taught physics and often covered other science classes depending on the need for the year. Perhaps it wasn’t what his father had in mind for him growing up, but he loved it and wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

He was still a majority shareholder for his father’s company, but Nathalie had flown in the position of COO. She consulted him on major decisions but for the most part, he let her do as she pleased and it worked perfectly. Both of them were content in their jobs, and that was about all they could ask.

Adrien Agreste preferred stoking the fires of curiosity that his students had, helping them learn and helping them on their way to bigger, better things. The kids saw him as a bit of an oddity, the teacher who could have been a professor at Uni, who was always in his room tinkering with something and happy to explain. They saw him as a bit absentminded sometimes, but he was the teacher everyone loved for his terrible humor and ability to empathize with them.

And Adrien, well, he wasn’t a hero anymore. He hadn’t been in years, but there were ways he could help those kids. He’d seen firsthand how many awful things his classmates had in their lives, terrible feelings the akuma could latch onto and hijack. So he taught and mentored, and he felt more rewarded by his work than he did in his entire time in the catsuit. If he could save even one of the kids from themselves, it would be enough of a difference.

He knew about the rumors, of course, but what could he do? People saw him as a bit eccentric, and some of the rumors were true. He let them pass without comment, shrugging them off when asked directly.

* * *

There was a box and a small package sitting on his desk when he arrived, and something smelled delicious. As students filed in, he opened the box to find it full of a variety of pastries and breads, enough for the entire class and then some. A quick call to the office explained that they’d been delivered and signed for, nothing out of the ordinary.

He opened up the wrapped package and found…a book. He stared at it for a moment before it registered and then his jaw dropped open slowly.

“What’s that Mr. Agreste?”

He looked up at the teenagers around him and cleared his throat. “Snacks from an old friend, help yourselves to whatever you want.”

“Ew why is this bread _purple_?”

“It’s taro bread!” One of the other kids snatched it up, excited beyond belief. “I love taro bread! It’s got sweet stuff in the middle.”

“Alright, let’s give everyone the chance to try things, alright?”

As the kids swarmed the box, he turned the book over in his hands. An autobiography, of all things, with the name Marinette Dupain-Cheng emblazoned across the bottom. His stomach turned in anticipation.

“Is that the new Ladybug biography?” one of the girls chirped.

“Oooooh, it wasn’t supposed to come out til next month, how did you get an early edition?”

“What? There’s no way…”

He flipped the front cover open, his heart pounding. He couldn’t help but smile at the familiar script.

_Thought you ought to have a copy. Thanks for everything._

_-M_

One of the girls gasped. “It’s _signed_ , how did you get a signed copy?!?”

The room exploded into loud chatter and only came back down to a normal as Adrien passed the box of pastries toward the back of the crowd and held a finger to his lips. “I’ll tell you if you get things and sit down.”

He’d never seen the students scamper back to their desks so quickly. “Well?”

“I dated her for awhile, near the end of her career as Ladybug.”

The classroom exploded into chaos again.

* * *

That evening, he sat down and read the entirety of the book, a cup of tea slowly going cold at his side.

It was biographical, written from Marinette’s perspective as Ladybug, and told the story of her growing up and the story of her eventual downfall. The latter part of it was thankfully falsified, just enough truth to seem true and just enough drama to quiet the public desire for knowledge of the events leading up to the disappearance of Ladybug and Chat Noir. It had nothing of his identity, his father’s fate, or the real endgame they’d been forced to play.

The last chapter discussed her life in the present. She’d moved back to the city, and occasionally worked in the bakery with her parents. They had managed to reopen where the original bakery was, and though she didn’t work there often, there were a number of people around her own age, now with kids of their own, who came by and told their kids stories of how Ladybug and Chat Noir saved Paris from a seemingly neverending stream of villains. They had a couple of pastries named for Chat and Ladybug, and Mr. Dupain still couldn’t resist going overboard when he got requests to decorate cakes with superheroes.

The end of the book was a couple pages of how she wished she knew who Chat was, but as her own identity ruined her life, she was glad she never knew and she hoped that he had a better retirement.

Once he’d finished it, he sat back in the chair, curling up with the book on his lap.

It seemed he had a few things to wrap up.

* * *

The bell on the door rang and Mrs. Cheng looked up. The young man was fairly nondescript, blonde, with glasses and an unassuming tweed jacket. The bouquet of flowers in his hand, however, caught her eye.

She couldn’t help being excited for the lady the flowers for, and she hummed pleasantly as she stood at the counter, waiting. He looked about the shop for a moment, then turned to her. “Can I help you pick something out? Something for a date, perhaps?”

His eyes widened and he looked surprise. “What? Oh, ah, not exactly.”

“That’s alright dear. Let me know if I can help you with anything, take your time.” She sipped some hot water from a thermos as he seemed to wrestle with something internally.

He hesitated for a moment. “Actually, is Marinette here?”

She inhaled so quickly she choked on her water, coughing into her sleeve for a minute before she could recover. “Marinette?”

She gave him another quick once-over, looking at him in a new light and making the switch to hawkeyed mother in an instant. His jacket was nice, his shoes were carefully polished brown leather, and though the tie seemed a bit quirky, it didn’t seem out of place. He wasn’t bad looking, either. She had the nagging suspicion she’d seen him before, but Marinette hadn’t brought anyone home in years. The observations were made in the space of a beat, and she recovered masterfully. “Oh! Well…no, she’s not, but you could leave your number for her?”

“It’s alright, I can leave her a note.” He rifled about in his breast pocket for a moment and dug a pen out. “Ah, is there any chance I could trouble you to get a note and flowers to her? I hate to impose but…”

“Oh of course, it’s no trouble at all.” She was quiet for a moment as he scribbled, then spoke up again. “Are those flowers fresh-cut? If you like, I’ve got a couple vases. I’m not sure when she’ll be home but sugar water should keep them fresh.”

He looked up, surprised and then relieved. “If she might not be home for awhile, that would be great. I’d hate for them to wilt.”

“Give me just a moment, I’ll go find one.”

She went to the back, pulling her husband away from where he was slowly mixing up a buttercream icing. “There’s a man out front looking for Marinette!” she hissed.

“What?”

“And he’s got _roses_.”

“And?”

“Go talk to him while I get a vase!”

“I’m sure he’s alright out there, maybe he’s just…”

“Thomas Dupain, you put that piping down right now and go strike up a conversation with him while I run upstairs or so help me I will…”

The bigger man laughed, leaning to kiss Sabine on the cheek as she bustled to the back, heading upstairs to their apartment to fetch a vase.

* * *

A text from an unknown number buzzed that night as he was reading.

_Unknown Number: I can’t believe I missed you by less than ten minutes today._

Marinette. His heart leapt. _I was wondering if you might want to lunch and catch up?_

_Of course. When and where are you thinking?_

He hesitated, then tossed out a couple suggestions.

At the end of the conversation, he sat staring at the wall, dazed. He was going out for lunch with Marinette on Saturday.

It took him two days to start panicking.

* * *

Waiting at the café was the most excruciating thing. He kept checking his phone to see if he’d missed a message from her, or fidgeting with the menu, or watching the passerby on the street outside. He checked his messages again, reassuring himself that he had the right place and time, and when he looked up again as the chimes on the door rang, a bit of his heart seemed to give out in a way it hadn’t in years.

Marinette had aged gracefully, to say the least. It had been eight years since he’d seen her and if anything, she was more beautiful than he remembered. Sure, her face had gone a bit leaner and she’d grown her hair out again, but there was something about her he couldn’t quite place.

He stood up at the sight of her, and a small part of his mind reminded him he hadn’t been quite so tall last time he’d seen her. He’d continued to grow in college…wait. Yes he had been, it was just that he didn’t remember as much of the wedding as he hoped.

She spotted him and a smile of recognition lit her face as she wove her way between the tables.

And that was the moment he fell in love with her all over again. No warning, no premonition. Just a warm smile that lit his heart up with a glow he’d barely felt since she’d left. The drop was like sunshine after months of snow, or looking into the night sky and feeling the sensation of falling into the eternity that was the endless stars.

“Hello Adrian.” She stood over the table and it was like looking up into the night sky at the moon. He gathered his wits and jumped to his feet, pulling a chair out and ushering her into it.

“How are you?”

“Very well, I think. It’s been a rather long road to get to where I am, but I think…I think everything is alright.” She smiled. “You look well.”

“I am, thank you.” He passed her a menu. “Hungry?”

“Hmm, you know they have the best pastrami in the city, so that’s what I’m going to get.” She fell silent for a bit as he considered his own menu, and spoke again once he’d decided and folded it back up. “I never got to say thank you for the flowers.”

His heart jumped. “It was a thank you for the book.”

She looked nervous. “Was it alright? I was hoping that preserving your identity would leave your options open, if you ever decided you wanted to go public.”

“I don’t think I ever will. And it was perfect, it answered a lot of questions I had.”

“It’s all true, up until the very end.” She grinned. “So, you tell me. How does it really end for you?”

“Nathalie is handling the business, she moved up to COO when I decided I didn’t want to do it. I went back to school and I’m teaching these days.”

“Please tell me you’re teaching Physics.”

“You know me too well.” He couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “That hasn’t changed.”

“How’s your father?”

The question struck a sour note, but he wrestled back the sadness that came with it. “He passed away a couple years ago. The demistrokes escalated, and when he had a full blown stroke there wasn't much they could do for him.”

Marinette looked surprised, as though she hadn’t known. “Oh, Adrien, I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”

“It’s alright. It was time.” He shrugged it off.

“Still. I’m sorry.”

They continued to chat as they ordered and ate, trying to make up for years of absence in a couple of hours. Once they’d eaten, they set off for the park, wandering their old hunting grounds as civilians. They headed toward the bakery at Marinette’s suggestion, and she explained how her parents had restarted the business as a fusion bakery, incorporating some of her mother’s favorite desserts into the menu as well.

The door opening jingled a bell, the sound strangely familiar. “Oh! There you are, I was just about to call you. Alya dropped by with ...” Mrs. Cheng’s eyes narrowed as she spotted him over the counter. “Alright, I know I recognized you, out with it.”

“Remember Adrien?”

The speed at which Mrs. Cheng’s expression changed was absurd. “Adrian?! Oh my goodness, I didn’t even recognize you, you look so grown up! How are you, what have you been doing all this time?”

“I’m teaching these days, actually. It’s been…an interesting couple of years.”

She stood up. “Watch the shop for me a moment, if you would? I’m going to go get myself more hot water, and then we’ll talk. I’ll get some for the two of you as well.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Cheng, I’m alright,” Adrian said.

If he hadn’t been looking directly at her, he would have missed it. Her eyes widened, just for a moment, and then she looked at him mildly, a small smile dancing about her lips. “Mmhmm, I bet you are.”

* * *

They left an hour later with a glazed red bean bun apiece and some cold-brew coffee. “Thank you for the pastries the other day. My class loved them.”

Marinette smiled. “It was a very small thing, along with the book. I owe you my life.”

“I mean, I owe you mine as well. Many times over.”

She paused, considering. “I think, there at the end, you saved us both.” Her left hand, blissfully ringless, wrapped around the cup lightly and he figured…why not? What did he have to lose?

“Marinette?” His face lit up with a broad smile.

She laughed nervously. “Uh oh, I recognize that expression. Trouble’s on the horizon.”

“Would you go out with me again next week?” The words certainly weren’t what he’d practiced in the mirror, over and over. They sounded so much more juvenile, and he braced himself for the worst sort of rejection…

“Alright.” Her smile was sweet and confident, somewhere between the Marinette he’d come to know again and his old partner, and it all came rushing in. The two women he’d fallen in love with were the same person and she was willing to give him a shot. “You still have to tell me what else you’ve been up to. If I know you, you’ve probably got half a dozen things going on alongside teaching.”

For old times sake, he couldn’t stop himself. “We really do need to cat-ch up.”

Without breaking stride, she shot back, “Look, I’m going to be honest, even after all this time your cat puns weird meow-t.”

His head shot up. “Did you just…?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Still, her mouth twisted as she tried to keep from laughing.

“That was ridiculous. I could kiss you.”

“Hmm, you could,” she agreed.

That tripped him up. He’d grown so accustomed to her teasing refusals, he hadn’t actually expected anything else. He hesitated. “ _May_ I kiss you?”

“I’ve only been waiting all day.”

“I’ve been waiting for years.”

She sighed. “Do you have to one-up me every time?”

“I could never one-up you, my lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I’ve already got the entire thing planned out. My outline was over 7000 words so...I'm in this for the long run. As the series comes out, I (almost certainly) won’t be changing the story to match with canon as it’s revealed, unless I can do it without completely changing my current plan. Cut me a little slack, we're not even through season one and I've only seen subbed episodes.
> 
> ALSO I’ve never been to Paris. So while google is one of my best friends, I am certainly falliable and welcome any and all help. I know next to nothing about famous fashion schools in Paris. I desperately need help navigating their healthcare system. If any of you have suggestions/edits/etc, I’m more than open to them! As I’m just sort of rolling with the info I can find. (Seriously. Please. If you have info or help for me, I’m all ears!)
> 
> Also, comments/critiques are always welcome!


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